


Just A Touch

by nadagio



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Arguing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Innuendo, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Oblivious Keith (Voltron), Slow Burn, Swearing, keith is a prickly cactus, lance teases at first but then tries real hard, poor lance, sort of, starts pre-series and goes through canon, who am i kidding lance still teases a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-10-29 21:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10862013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadagio/pseuds/nadagio
Summary: Keith isn't prepared to find himselfclingingto Lance, his annoying classmate at the Garrison who is also maybe his "soulmate." He isn't prepared to get expelled or to live alone in the desert and search for the source of a mysterious energy. He definitely isn't prepared to fly into space on a whim or to pilot a magical robot lion in a millennia-old war for the entire universe.But all of that does happen, so now he has to deal with it. Keith has to adjust to life in space, to becoming a soldier, and to building close and trusting relationships with his teammates – including Lance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, haven't finished writing this. Don't have more than a vague outline and don't know how long it will be. 10k? 30k? But I hope posting what I have so far will help keep me motivated to finish. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (P.S. Not kidding about the swearing tag. This incarnation of Keith is going to swear. A lot.)

The first time it happens – the day they find out – is a few months into their first year at the Galaxy Garrison’s school in Nevada. By now, Lance has already established an antagonistic relationship with Keith by heckling him into some sort of stupid “rivalry.” They’re both in the piloting track, but Lance is cargo class while Keith is fighter class. Not that it really matters because they’re in all of the same classes for the first year anyway.

Keith would have preferred that Lance remain another anonymous face in the crowd. Keith isn’t here to make friends, and definitely not rivals. But from the moment their first test scores came back and class rankings were posted, Lance has been after his ass for the most stupid shit. Most days it’s his appearance or attitude, which are apparently unbecoming of a Garrison officer – except Lance is the only one who seems to think so. When Keith isn’t being insulted or chided, he’s being told to “watch out” because Lance is definitely going to get the best of him _this time_. Sometimes that’s even true. Keith really wouldn’t care except Lance is just so in his face all the time and so annoying.

Lance is not a rival. He’s a pain in the ass who seriously tests Keith’s patience.

That patience is already spread dangerously thin the day Lance chooses to swagger up to him in the halls with his usual cocky smile. Immediately, Keith turns on his heel to walk in the opposite direction, but Lance jogs to catch up to him.

“Not so fast, Mullet!” Lance calls out, and Keith doesn’t even try to temper his scowl. He stops walking and turns to face Lance with his arms crossed. If he walks away Lance will follow. Best to get this shit over with, then.

“What?” he growls.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re not too heartbroken about today’s quiz in Applied Physics.” Lance shifts his weight to one leg and puts a hand on his hip to complete the douchebag image. “I can be gracious in my victory. Just let me know if you need any tutoring to catch up.”

“I think I’ll pass on that offer,” Keith says. “Is that all or can I go now?”

“I’m just concerned, dude.” Lance widens his eyes in an expression of mock sympathy. “I don’t want to think of you sobbing in the bathroom all alone when I could be there to comfort you in your time of need.”

Keith grips the arms of his uniform tight to avoid reaching for Lance’s throat instead. He cannot deal with this right now. He snarls, “You’ll be the one sobbing if you don’t. Fuck. Off.”

“Woah, temper!” Lance raises his palms defensively. “You know there are healthier ways to deal with your grief than channeling it into anger -”

That’s about when Keith’s patience snaps. He lunges to grab Lance by the collar of his jacket, slamming him back against the wall. If anyone else was in the hallway right now they’d be calling in campus security, but instead Lance is left to fend off Keith himself. Without success.

“What the hell!” Lance squawks, wiggling against the wall and grabbing at Keith’s wrist to try and pull him off. He fails.

“You are going to shut your fucking mouth for once,” Keith hisses, leaning close to glare fiercely into Lance’s eyes. “And leave me the fuck alone for just _one_ goddamn day! You got that!?”

Lance nods, looking shocked and a bit terrified with Keith’s fist still at his throat. “Yup, got it,” he says. “Shutting my fucking mouth and leaving you alone today.”

“Good!” Keith gives him one last shove into the wall. Then he lets go of Lance’s jacket and takes a step back.

Except Lance stumbles forward into him as he takes that step, because Keith did not actually let go of Lance’s jacket.

Keith glares at his hand, furious and confused, and tries to puzzle out why his fingers aren’t obeying his own fucking orders. It takes another couple of attempts to move his hand for Keith to arrive at the terrible conclusion that Keith is _clinging_ to Lance. Not in an intentional, desperate way, but in the instinctual, reflexive way.

Lance is twisting around his own arm, probably trying to remove his hand from Keith’s wrist, when he freezes and meets Keith’s horrified eyes with a look of dawning realization.

No. _No_. Fuck this. This is not happening. Not with _Lance_. And not today, the day he found out that his former foster mom succumbed to breast cancer last night. It’s not like she was his real mother, he only knew her for a couple years, but she was a good woman who did right by Keith and it fucking _sucks_ that she’s dead now. Keith deserves at least _one fucking day_ to stew in his own misery without having to deal with shit like this. _He can’t deal with this right now_.

“No,” Keith says out loud. “This is bullshit. I can’t deal with this. Let go.”

“I can’t!” Lance shrieks. “We’re clinging to each other!”

“I got that, you moron. Now fucking let go of me!” Keith tries again to relax his fingers, tries again to take a step back. Lance stumbles after him, still clinging.

“I’ll let go when _you_ do, asshole! You know that’s not how this works!”

“Well I’m not gonna fucking _kiss_ you so you’d better figure out how to fix this mess!” Keith yells, breathing heavily with rage and panic and grief and he _just can’t deal with this right now_.

“Okay! Jeez, calm down, Keith,” Lance says, and he even says it in a quiet, gentle way but it’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough to calm Keith down right now. This is so fucked up. Why is this happening to him? “Okay. Um. So... we should let go if we’re unconscious?”

“And how do you expect to get that way, genius?” Keith snarls. “You want me to punch you in the head?”

“No!” Lance yelps, pulling his head as far away as he can with Keith still clinging to the collar of his jacket. “Don’t! Maybe the clinic? They could have some drugs or something to knock us out!”

“So you want to walk all the way across campus like this?” Keith says, aghast. “Let everyone see us clinging to each other? Fuck that.”

“Well I don’t see you coming up with any ideas! At least that one would probably work.” Lance snaps.

“No. We’re not going anywhere until I can leave you behind.” Keith’s breathing has calmed down some as he’s adjusted to the reality of the situation but he’s still fucking pissed. “Let’s just… try and pull away.”

“That’s stupid!” Lance says. “We’re more likely to break our fingers!”

“So we won’t pull that hard!” Keith snarls. “Let’s just… fucking _try it_ , okay?”

“Fine!”

The next few minutes are spent tugging at their respective hands in an effort to pry their fingers off each other. Keith’s grip on the jacket is less secure so that eventually he’s able to pull himself free with only some roughed up fingernails and friction burns in consequence.

Except Lance is still touching him and the reflex is still active so Keith’s hand just immediately latches onto Lance’s wrist instead. They look at their clinging hands with matching scowls. It’s like they’re stuck in a weird handshake.

“Goddammit,” Keith mutters.

“At least you’re not about to strangle me anymore,” Lance points out glumly.

“That was the one perk of this fucked up situation,” Keith says, ignoring Lance’s return glare.

Which is when they hear the approaching footsteps of a crowd. A class must have just let out. They look at each other for a moment, panicked, before Lance’s face firms with resolve.

“Come on,” he says, and tugs Keith by the wrist down the hall. For lack of any better ideas, Keith follows along with minimal protest. A few turns later, Lance is pulling him into a dark and empty classroom.

They stand and glare at their hands, still clinging.

“It’s a little less awkward to walk to the clinic like this,” Lance says. “Maybe -”

“No. No one’s finding out about this,” Keith says.

“Fine! Then you know there’s only one way this can go!” Lance says, his free hand on his hip.

“I’m not -!” Keith starts to protest, but Lance cuts him off with a tug on their linked hands and a finger in his face.

“We don’t have to kiss, asshole!” The finger wags. “We just have to… touch, or something. You know, release those happy, friendly hormones or whatever.”

“Touch,” Keith repeats with a grimace. “Touch how?” The finger is removed from Keith’s face, and Lance shrugs.

“A hug? Might work?” he says.

“ _Might_? If you don’t think it’s -”

“It’s a good idea! So shut up and hug me, you jerk!”

It’s the best they have to work with, so Keith shuts up and hugs him. Or rather, he steps closer and puts his arm around Lance’s shoulders while otherwise standing stiffly. Lance huffs a tiny laugh.

“You really suck at hugging, dude,” Lance says, and wraps his free arm around Keith in return. Except he also leans in so that their chests touch above their clasped hands and lowers his chin to Keith’s shoulder. If anything, Keith stiffens more. He tests the grip of his clinging hand and finds that it’s still not cooperating.

“This isn’t -”

“I said shut up and hug me, Keith.”

Keith shuts up and hugs him. He has to release those happy, friendly hormones if they’re going to get out of this, after all. So for a while they stand frozen in a strange parody of a bro hug.

Keith forces himself to breathe deeply, to try and relax. He closes his eyes in an attempt to help. But the quiet and the stillness just bring his thoughts back to his foster mom, to Karen. She’s dead now. Michael is all alone in the house with their two cats and too many medical bills. Planning a funeral. Will Keith even get the chance to go? Will the Garrison let him skip out on classes for a woman who isn’t really family? The thought makes his chest ache and his lungs constrict. His breathing becomes shallow and his eyes water. Keith sniffs away the snot that’s starting to run and unconsciously leans into Lance’s embrace.

For a moment, Keith lets himself appreciate the contact with another human being. As he blinks away tears, he savors the hug and he’s glad Lance is here.

A minute later, Keith realizes he can wiggle his once-frozen fingers and the moment is over. He pulls away and avoids meeting the other boy’s eyes as they let go and step apart, shaking off the stiffness of their newly free hands.

“Told you it was a good idea,” Lance mutters, and Keith is suddenly reminded of the reality that this is _Lance_. Keith doesn’t like Lance for accidentally comforting him during a moment of weakness, Keith hates Lance because Lance is an annoying jackass. Keith glares.

“Don’t ever touch me again,” he sneers. Because the only way to avoid this in the future is to make sure they don’t touch. Because Keith will not give in to some stupid biological reflex. They do not _belong_ together. Whatever fucked up idea his body has about Lance is wrong, because Keith’s good sense says that Lance is a jackass and he wants nothing to do with him.

“Are you serious right now!?” Lance says, aghast. “You really -?”

“Don’t. Touch me!” Keith repeats. “Just stay the fuck away from me! I don’t want this!”

“Keith -” Lance starts, and takes a step forward. Keith takes two steps back in response.

“No! Leave me alone!” Keith shouts, and then he bolts. Out of the room, out of the building, out of the fucking Garrison. He would leave the planet if he could, but Keith settles for running into the desert. He runs and runs until he’s gasping for breath and then he collapses in the red dirt with a sob.

Keith doesn’t care that he’ll get in trouble for leaving campus during the week, or that he’ll probably be late getting back to the barracks for curfew. He just wants to fall apart in peace, without having to worry about tests or homework or the eyes of his instructors and classmates. Without having to face Lance, who is a pain in the ass but is also either his soulmate or the unfortunate target of his body’s primitive desire for a compatible life partner.

He wants to run. No, _fly_. He wants to fly far away and never look back at the memories of Karen and everyone else who ever left him. Keith cries and gasps and whimpers into the dusty rocks and dry grass and wishes he could leave it all behind, too. His life, his memories, his pain. But he can’t. He’s stuck here in this place and in this moment with all these fucking awful _feelings_ inside him, crowding his thoughts and testing his self-control.

When Keith finally returns to the Garrison, the stars are out and his eyes are swollen red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is inspired by me trying to think of a "soulmate" mechanism that's a little less magical and maybe a little more feasible. You'll learn some more about this clinging thing as the story continues, but feel free to ask about it if you're curious.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Keith angst with a dash of Lance trying to give a shit and help him. Lonely Keith in the desert, leading up to the events of episode one.

Lance keeps his distance after that. Now he’s nothing but a source of frowns and conflicted looks from across the room. Keith gets a savage sort of satisfaction from it. If there’s also a tiny bit of regret, the barest wonderings of “what if,” he buries it deep and doesn’t consciously notice. Instead Keith enjoys the return of peace and quiet to his life, and doesn’t call it emptiness. He enjoys the return of a familiar restless ache, and doesn’t call it loneliness.

Keith _is_ in fact permitted to skip class and attend Karen’s funeral. He’s gone for three days, flying back to Texas and staying with Michael during that time. Karen’s sister, Jessie, is there too and it’s an uncomfortable 48 hours or so of tiptoeing around grief and the logistics of living with people who aren’t strangers but aren’t quite family either. He gets through it. Mostly, he feels numb.

After that the dull monotony of school is only interspersed by the occasional visit from Shiro, an older pilot who recruited Keith out of high school, who is now also a friend and mentor. He’s the reason Keith is here and studying to become a pilot, and not working some dead-end job and probably getting into some sort of stupid trouble out of boredom.

Except even those visits end, because Shiro is being sent on a mission to Kerberos, all the way across the solar system. He’ll be gone for six months. They part with a hug and a smile, waving and saying, “see you soon.”

Three months gone. He goes to class, he studies, he finishes homework and projects and examinations. Nothing noteworthy happens until it’s nearing the end of the school year and Keith learns that Shiro is gone for good. Shiro is _dead_ and so is the rest of his crew.

The next few days pass in a blur of rage. Keith yells at a lot of people: his instructors, the counselor, school administrators – most of them are just trying to help him. He doesn’t even remember what he says or what sets him off each time. He just knows that by the end of those three days, he’s been expelled from the Garrison and has one day to make his arrangements to leave.

Keith has nowhere to go. No family. Michael has no expectation that Keith will be coming back, even if he did offer an open invitation out of courtesy. No, Texas isn’t an option. But Keith is legally an adult now, so he’ll just have to figure his shit out for himself.

He’s staring down at his bag of sparse belongings in his shared room, his roommate taking refuge with a friend, when there’s a knock on his door. Without much thought, Keith opens the door and frowns at the person on the other side.

Lance. Standing just a few feet away now after most of a year gone in distant antipathy. But he makes no move to get any closer than that – a good decision on his part.

“What do you want?” Keith asks flatly.

“I heard you got kicked out,” Lance says, expressive face drooping with unusual gravity.

“Yeah. So? Why are you here?” He crosses his arms.

“So I wanted to make sure you’re… okay?” Lance shifts on his feet, hands in pockets and avoiding eye contact. “Or something? Are you?”

“I’m fucking peachy,” Keith says. “But that’s really not any of your business.”

Lance looks at him, face twisted in shock and offense. “Wow. I know you’re like, allergic to basic decency and human kindness or whatever, but you don’t have to be such an asshole when I’m trying to be nice.”

“I didn’t ask you to be _nice,"_  Keith says. “I don’t _want_ you to be nice. I want you to leave me the fuck alone, just like I’ve always wanted.”

“That’s really charming, man,” Lance sneers, “But you don’t always get to chose when people care about you.”

Keith scoffs. “You don’t care about me. You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t have to know all your secret thoughts and dreams to give a shit about what happens to you!” Lance throws his hands in the air. “And whose fault is it if I _don’t_ know you!? I _want_ to!”

“Are you done?” Keith asks. Lance scowls.

“No. I’m not. Give me your phone.”

“The fuck? No!”

“Let me rephrase that,” Lance says, taking a step forward. “Give me your phone so we can exchange contact info, or I’ll _touch_ you.”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Keith shouts, eyeing the door. But Lance is now in the way of him closing it, and Keith can’t get him _out_ of the way without touching him. And no way is that happening.

“Give me your phone, Keith,” Lance says firmly, walking forward. Keith scrambles back, just out of reach.

“Fine, jackass! I’ll give you my damned phone!” Keith pulls it out of his pocket and unlocks it before throwing it at Lance’s face. Unfortunately, Lance catches it before it can hit him in the nose. He grins darkly and gets to work entering his contact info and messaging himself with Keith’s.

Keith is left to watch helplessly, absolutely furious at this asshole who can successfully threaten him with a _touch._ It’s so fucking stupid, and if there’s one good thing to come out of his expulsion it’s that Keith won’t ever have to see Lance again.

“There. Done.” Lance tosses him back his phone and Keith tucks it away with a scowl. Lance eyes his packed bag. “You know where you’re going?”

“What’s it to you?” Keith mutters. Lance puts his hands on his hips.

“Do I really have to explain me giving a shit again?” he says. “Just tell me you have somewhere to go.”

“I don’t know,” Keith says, picking up his bag. If Lance isn’t going to leave him alone, maybe he should just leave. “Does it matter?”

“Um. Yes!? Keith. Are you homeless?”

“Maybe. So what!? It has nothing to do with you!” Keith snarls. “It’s my own shit to deal with, not yours. So just -”

“Keith, I can _help.”_ Lance runs his hands through his hair with a pained expression. “Just let me -”

“No! I don’t need your help and I don’t want your help! Stop trying to -”

“You’re my _soulmate!_ ” Lance yells. “I have to -!”

“I’m not your _anything!_ Just because our bodies are fucking _stupid_ doesn’t mean you have to do _shit!”_

“Keith, please,” Lance begs. He steps closer, reaching out. “Can you please just -”

“Don’t _touch_ me!” Keith screams, lifting his bag between them defensively and edging toward the door. “I’m leaving and it doesn’t matter to you because I am not your _anything!_ We are _nothing!_ So just grow the fuck up, get over it, and leave me the fuck alone!”

And then Keith runs, because that is one thing he is very good at: running away from his problems when he can’t aggressively beat them into submission. He ignores the shouts of “Keith!” behind him and just leaves. What does it matter where he’s going? It’s never mattered before because he always ends up right back here anyway, leaving again.

Instead of going to the airport, the bus station, or even just wandering aimlessly around town, Keith walks into the desert. No preparation, no destination. Just him and the dirt and the sun, nothing to worry about except surviving.

* * *

By nightfall Keith comes to realize how completely stupid he is. He’s dehydrated and hungry, sunburned and exhausted, and now miles away from human civilization. Despite his fucked up brain tripping on emotional turmoil, he doesn’t _actually_ want to die.

He allows himself to flop into the dirt and appreciate the serenity of nature for a while. The dark skies, cool breeze, incredible rock formations, and small signs of life. Then he picks himself up and starts walking back to town. Better to travel at night even when exhausted than wait until morning and the return of the sun. His feet hurt with open blisters, and he can barely feel his legs. There’s a worsening headache pounding inside his skull. But Keith sets his jaw and presses on.

* * *

The good news is, Keith has a small amount of savings to fall back on from his various summer jobs over the years. Not enough to live comfortably for more than a month or so, but enough that he can at least set himself up in a cheap hotel for a short while as he figures shit out.

He'd been counting on having a job after graduating with the Garrison. Obviously, that's not an option anymore so Keith has no idea what to do with himself. He should probably find work.

Instead, he buys a beat up hoverbike and explores the desert. Hey, Keith never claims to make _good_ decisions. But something about the desert draws him in. It’s something like peace. Something like freedom. Maybe even something like opportunity. It calms him. And that's something he desperately needs right now.

On the third day of exploration (he’s sure to carry tools for his bike and extra food and water with him at all times now), Keith finds an abandoned old house. He stands on the dirty porch, looks out over the desert and the complete lack of any other people around for miles and miles and thinks: why the hell not?

So he fixes the busted door and cleans off the years of accumulated grime. He takes back blankets and canned food and other supplies and now Keith has somewhere to live. Illegally, yes, but he will worry about that if and when someone actually notices.

Every time Keith visits town his phone has service again and he sees a new message from Lance. The earliest ones are all long, poorly spelled rants about Keith’s stupidity and dickishness. After a week without response the messages beg him for some word, any at all, to let Lance know that he’s still alive.

Because Keith is not in fact completely heartless, he responds. Even if his response is just, “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

Lance messages back with, “I’ll leave you alone if you promise to tell me if you need help.”

Keith has no intention of ever asking Lance for help, but he still replies, “Fine.” Agreeing grants him weeks of silence, at least. Just once a month or so now does Lance bug him for word that he’s still okay.

Keith _could_ just switch phones or abandon carrying one altogether. He doesn’t really need one when he has no one to call. But it’s probably good to have one for emergencies and again, he’s not completely heartless, so he makes sure to keep some minutes on it and responds to the monthly messages. If there’s also a small part of him that appreciates Lance’s efforts, Keith pays it no mind.

* * *

Time passes. The days, the weeks, the months. Keith picks up odd jobs in town for the cash he needs to survive. But largely, he’s all alone in the desert. Keith never knew how lonely life could be without the minimal daily interactions that come from living close to other people, but he knows now.

He fixes up the house a bit, fixes up his bike too. He pinpoints an odd feeling, something that truly and actively draws him deeper into the desert, and he decides to call it an energy. He brings home some cheap, old electronics to try and pinpoint the source, but it’s elusive.

The sun and the wind and the loneliness wear away at Keith’s anger and pain until he’s mostly just tired. He’s not angry at all the people who left, he just longs for them to return. He’s not angry at the Garrison for kicking him out, he just resigns himself to his new, lonely lifestyle. And he’s not angry at Lance for continuing to bug him, he just wishes Lance would stop trying to force a connection that isn’t there.

Following the energy’s pull, he eventually finds a cave system filled with strange drawings. He can feel that this place is the source of the energy, but it’s still restless, still draws him in. Why? To do what? He returns again and again, trying to interpret the images, most of which feature a blue lion.

He does a lot of research into this area’s ancient civilizations, about their symbols and calendars. He even talks to some professors in ancient history and culture. From what he can tell, the markings are something like a prophecy, speaking of an event to come. If he’s done his calculations right, that event is supposed to be soon. Real soon. As in, next month kind of soon.

As best he can when he has no idea what’s coming, Keith prepares. What else is there to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you maybe get the feeling Keith doesn't like accepting help from other people? I'll leave you to imagine what sort of crazy scenarios Keith prepared for in his conspiracy shack. (Hint: alien invasion was definitely one of them.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith finds Shiro, has a tense reunion with Lance, and then they all travel across the universe and get pulled into this Voltron thing. After a long and very weird day, Lance talks to Keith and they're actually mostly civil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't start out planning to recap the series, but since I'm following canon events I kinda do? The goal here is to get Keith's perspective and character development, plus the changes that happen with Lance and Keith being soulmates, plus maybe an extra scene here and there.
> 
> Anyway, here's episode one!

The day of the mysterious, foretold “event,” Keith waits in the desert. And waits, and waits. He’s not even sure what he’s waiting for. Not until the ship crashes later in the evening.

He doesn’t ask himself if he should get involved. This is what he’s been waiting for, after all. This is the reason the energy drew him out here. He has to do _something._

So he does, and then things move very quickly. Racing to the crash site only to find that the Garrison beat him to it. Setting up explosives as a diversion, sneaking into the lab that’s been set up to contain whoever or whatever was on the ship. Punching out the lab techs and finding _Shiro_ on the cot – scarred, but _alive._ _Shiro is alive!_

Keith cuts off the restraints and gets ready to take Shiro somewhere safe, when he’s caught off guard by a familiar voice.

“Nope!” Keith looks and _Lance_ is here, walking toward him from the entrance where two other people are standing. “No y- No no no no no. No you don’t.” He shoves the cot out his way. _“I’m_ saving Shiro.” Lance grabs Shiro’s other arm and slings it across his shoulders, keeping his own arm a safe distance from Keith’s on Shiro’s back. What the hell, Lance?

“Who are you?” Keith says, just to be difficult, pissed at having to deal with this jackass when _Shiro is alive_ _and needs his help._

“Who am I?” Lance frowns. “Keith, cut the shit. You know who I am.”

Keith stares at him with a deliberately blank expression. Lance scowls.

“Uh, the name’s _Lance._ You suddenly have amnesia, dude? Or just being a bigger asshole than usual?”

“Oh wait, I remember you,” Keith snarks. “You’re a cargo pilot.”

“Well not anymore.” Lance glares. “I’m fighter class now, thanks to you washing out.”

“Well congratulations,” Keith says, and that’s really enough of this nonsense. They need to get Shiro out of here _now._

Together they drag his unconscious body out of the makeshift quarantine lab and onto Keith’s bike, Lance’s two friends trailing behind. One very exciting bike ride dodging Garrison stooges later, they’re all at Keith’s place in the desert.

“What is this?” Lance asks, looking around as they settle Shiro on the couch. Keith steps away from Lance as soon as he can to keep some distance. “Did you buy a house? Are you renting? Or… wait. Keith!” Lance turns to glare at him. “Are you squatting on someone else’s property!?”

Keith crosses his arms. “So what if I am? It’s a place to stay. I’m not bothering anyone.”

Lance groans and throws his head back. “You can’t just _do_ that, Keith! Is this where you’ve been the whole year? Living like a hobo?”

“It’s really not any of your -”

“Don’t you dare say it!” Lance shrieks, pointing at him. “Just. Don’t!”

“Umm… guys?” One of Lance’s friends speaks up. The big one. “Could we all just… calm down and figure out what’s going on without all the yelling?”

“He always does this, Hunk!” Lance says, turning to his friend. His friend who is a hunk? But maybe his name is also Hunk? “He does stupid shit and then when I try and -”

“Lance!” The big guy steps forward to put a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Breathe. Come on. There are more important things to worry about right now than whether or not Keith has legal rights to this place. We’re talking _alien invasions,_ man.” He pulls Lance into a hug and Lance visibly starts to relax.

“Yeah, okay,” Lance mumbles. Keith looks away with a frown.

“We need to find out where Shiro has been,” the small one says. “And where the rest of the crew from the Kerberos mission is.”

“Shiro won’t be telling us anything until he has a chance to recover from whatever happened to him,” Keith says. “Don’t go waking him up. He needs sleep.”

“I could use some sleep. We all could, probably,” the big guy says as Lance pulls away from his hug. “Things have gotten real crazy and they’ll just keep getting crazier if aliens are involved. Nothing’s gonna be fixed by us speculating without information. So maybe we should… rest up, yeah?”

“Rest up where?” Lance says, pouting and crossing his arms. “This place is a tiny dump.”

“You’re welcome, by the way, for dragging your asses back to this tiny dump and away from the shitfest at the Garrison,” Keith says. Lance glares and is about to respond when the small friend cuts him off.

“If we’re not getting any answers tonight then I don’t want to deal with you guys yelling at each other either.” They – she probably? – crosses her arms and turns to Keith. “Keith, right? I’m Pidge. That’s Hunk, and you’re obviously familiar with the loud one, Lance. You got any blankets or something we can use?”

“Yeah, I do,” Keith says, agreeably enough, and fetches them from the closet.

No one talks much after that. They all settle in on the floor and try to sleep for a few hours. Keith makes sure he’s a safe distance from Lance and has a good view of Shiro on the couch. He’s still buzzing with adrenaline from the events of the evening, but he closes his eyes and eventually falls into a restless sleep.

* * *

The next morning Shiro wakes up and tells them about the aliens, and about Voltron. Keith brings everyone out to the boulders with the cave system. He’s been there so many times, he’s not sure how it will help to visit them again. But Hunk’s “Voltron Finder” actually picks up a reading to follow and leads them into the caves, so maybe there’s something he missed.

Scratch that, he _definitely_ missed something. Like the carvings glowing and the floor falling out underneath him. Keith scrambles away from Lance when they land with a splash, trying to avoid touching him. And then he’s distracted by the _giant_ fucking _robot lion._ What the hell.

Keith gets closer to investigate, but it’s Lance who brings down the force field. Lance who runs up the ramp and seats himself in what turns out to be a pilot chair. Lance who flies them out of the cave and into the atmosphere, then out of the _solar system_ while being chased by an alien ship out to destroy them.

Next thing he knows they’re traveling through a wormhole and landing on a distant planet, entering some sort of castle and waking up an alien princess from a 10,000 year nap. They’re being told to pilot the lions of Voltron against an empire that spreads across the universe, and _what the fuck even is his life!?_ Seriously? How did waking up today become Keith being conscripted in a millennia-old war?

Keith goes along with it. Because can he really say no to saving the universe from despotic aliens if it’s in his power to stop them? And really, what else was he going to do with his life, anyway?

The next few hours are spent finding the rest of the lions, infiltrating Sendak’s ship, and then fighting to destroy it. By the time Keith stumbles out of the Red Lion, exhausted and nearly shaking but victorious and miraculously _still_ _alive,_ he’s ready to sleep for 10,000 years too.

Which is why he’s grateful when, after a quick meal of disgusting green goo, they’re shown to the rooms in the castle which are now theirs. He’s less grateful to see that Lance’s room is right beside his own, but maybe that’s just another thing he’s going to have to get used to about these fucked up circumstances.

Speaking of Lance. Instead of getting settled in his own room, Lance choses to follow Keith into his. Typical.

“What do you want, Lance?” Keith asks, and being so tired means his tone has less bite to it than usual. He pulls off his jacket to hang it on the wall.

“Looks like we’re gonna be teammates now,” Lance says, and there’s an edge of weariness in his voice too.

“Looks like it,” Keith agrees, knees finally giving out as he sits on the bed with a sigh.

“So… we should figure out how we’re going to deal with that.” Lance raises his eyebrows, clearly trying to hint at something but Keith can’t be bothered to puzzle out what that thing is.

“Deal with what? What are you talking about?”

 _“Wow,”_ Lance mutters, shaking his head. “You’re hopeless, dude. The clinging? You know? Or have you forgotten about that like you supposedly forgot about _me?”_

“I remember,” Keith says, crossing his arms. “But you know there’s nothing we can do about it except avoid touching.”

“If you think about it for even a minute, you’ll know that’s impossible!” Lance says, tossing his hands up like he is wont to do in Keith’s presence. “It’s a miracle we managed to avoid it _today,_ Keith. We need to come up with a plan.”

“Like what?” Keith frowns.

“Like, are we gonna tell everyone else? Or just leave them to wonder why we’re randomly hugging it out in the middle of a conversation?”

“We’re not telling _anyone._ It’s none of their business. And if we keep our distance then they won’t have to see us… ‘hugging it out.’”

Lance drags his hands down his face with a groan. “Fine. No telling the others. But I’m telling you that it’s _going to happen._ We’ll bump into each other in the hall maybe. However it happens, it _will_ happen because we can’t avoid it completely if we’re living and working so close. I need to know how you want to deal with that.”

It’s unpleasant to consider that Lance is probably right. But he is. If they’re going to defend the universe together, live in adjacent rooms and eat at the same table… sooner or later, they’ll touch. And then they’ll cling, and they’ll have to do _something._

“Just… act casual, then,” Keith says after a minute of thought. “If there are people around, we’ll find an excuse to leave the room and… hug, or whatever.”

Lance stares at him for a second. Blinks. And sighs. “Okay, Keith. We’ll act casual. Until that inevitably fails. But we can just deal with that when it happens.”

“Fine,” Keith says, for once a little annoyed at someone _else’s_ cynicism.

“Fine,” Lance repeats with a frown. “And thanks for not yelling at me or telling me to fuck off. I guess.”

That comment rubs at Keith and makes him feel guilty. Is that really what Lance thinks of him? That he just yells at anyone who tries to talk to him? Is that how Keith acts around him?

Thinking back on some of their interactions, maybe it is. And what has Lance really done to deserve that? He was an annoying pain in the ass, but that was nearly two years ago now. He has since then mostly expressed concern for Keith’s safety and well being. Sometimes he’s a little overbearing and says stupid things, but he means well.

So, no. Lance doesn’t deserve Keith being angry at him. It’s not his fault that their bodies are stupid and latch on to each other. But Keith doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to apologize. He says nothing.

Lance is leaving the room, about to walk out when he stops. He doesn’t turn around when he says, “I get that you don’t want this. Don’t want _me._ Maybe you’ve never had a close relationship with someone and you don’t know what it’s like to just see someone’s face and be _happy_ about it. To give them a hug just because you feel like it. But if we had that, even if we just tried, this clinging thing wouldn’t have to be so bad.”

Keith is silent.

“Think about it,” Lance says, and the door slides shut behind him.

Keith thinks about it as he pulls his knife off his belt and gets under the covers. Keith thinks about it as he leans against the wall and stares at the sheathed blade in his hands, suddenly wide awake.

Has Keith ever had a relationship like that? This knife is all he has left from his parents. It’s his greatest connection to other people. And isn’t that pathetic, to be so alone. _Shiro_ is his friend, Keith doesn’t doubt that. But there’s a distance there, and that distance has only grown with more than a year apart and whatever trauma Shiro’s been through in that time.

What would it be like… to be close to someone? So close that being affectionate every time you touch, and actually _seeking out_ that touch, wouldn’t be something to fear? Could Keith have that? With Lance? Does he _want_ to?

Keith can’t answer these questions, but he can’t stop asking them either, his thoughts circling.

Eventually he must fall asleep, because some time later he wakes up still hunched against the wall, his knife in his lap. He stretches with a groan and rubs at his sore neck. Now what? He could try to sleep again, but he’s not tired. Is he even allowed to leave his room right now? What if this is like the barracks, where he couldn’t go anywhere before 5? What time is it, even? Do they even have clocks on Arus? How are they supposed to keep track of their days and sleep schedules?

This is the sort of stupid shit he’s thinking about when the alarm sounds. And aside from being an emergency call to action, the alarm is also a distraction from his internal anxiety about there being _so much he still doesn’t know_ about his new circumstances. So he jumps out of bed and grabs his jacket. Time to help save the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Don't want _me._ " Aah, poor Lance. Your insecurity is showing. Except oblivious!Keith is oblivious, so...
> 
> Next up, more hugs!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year and a half they manage to avoid it, and then they're clinging twice in one day and both times it's in front of the team. It's ridiculous. And awful.

Lance turns out to be right, of course. They can’t avoid touching each other forever. They can’t even avoid touching each other for a full _day,_ apparently. A day that’s full of strange and brutal “training” exercises.

After failing to form Voltron, they spend hours dodging fire from the castle defense systems. Coran then directs their training himself with exercises like shielding each other from drones, nosediving blind in their lions, guiding each other through invisible mazes, and some sort of mind-meld meditation.

It’s not the sort of training environment Keith is used to. There’s no detailed instruction or explanations, no repetitive practice of skills with the goal of self-improvement. They’re just given the barest of tools and explanations and thrown straight into it. Mostly with the goal of “bonding” and improved teamwork. Not really Keith’s thing.

And just when it seems like things couldn’t get any worse – when they finally have a moment to breathe and collect themselves in this crazy hellhole – Allura finds them “lying around” and decides they need to face the “Gladiator.”

So here they stand, holding their bayards – which Keith has no idea how to use because, yes, swords are cool but who the hell actually uses one in combat these days!? – and waiting for the aforementioned “Gladiator” to appear.

Which it does. From the ceiling. _Behind_ them.

The next forty seconds or so is a shitstorm of clumsy action on the paladins’ parts, and whooping ass on the part of the Gladiator. But the absolute _best_ moment (the worst actually) is when the Gladiator swings Lance around and _into_ Keith and they fall to the floor.

Keith sits up and tries to push Lance off him. Shiro is standing frozen and he has to _help_ ! But his hand isn’t letting go of Lance’s shoulder, and Lance’s arm just tightens around his waist. _Fuck_. They’re _clinging._ He has barely a moment to register this and watch as Shiro gets knocked to the ground before the Gladiator is deactivated and Allura starts tearing into them for their poor performance.

 _What the fuck did she expect?_ They’ve never even tried using their weapons before, _Shiro doesn’t even have a weapon,_ and she thinks they’re going to use them effectively, as a _team_ , against an enemy that actually knows what the fuck it’s doing? Bullshit.

Except Keith’s indignation is overwhelmed by his panic. He’s _clinging_ to Lance right now and the whole team is here to see it. Last night he said to act casual, but he doesn’t know how to make this look like anything other than what it is.

Everyone else picks themselves up off the floor slowly, grim after their beating and chastisement. Keith wants to walk over and make sure Shiro is okay but he can’t because he’s _stuck._

“Do you think you can walk?” Lance asks him loudly, and Keith stares at him, confused.

“What?”

“Your _ankle_ ,” Lance says, widening his eyes dramatically. “Looked like a nasty fall. You okay?”

Keith has no idea what he’s talking about because he feels fine, but then Lance starts to lift him to his feet with the arm around his waist and - _oh._ It’s a ruse. He sighs and some of the panic fades, turning into nerves at being put on the spot.

“You’re hurt, Keith?” Shiro asks, looking concerned. And it’s not fair because Keith should be asking _him_ that after he froze up against the Gladiator. But he can only nod, can’t meet his friend’s eyes as he lies to him.

“Um.” Keith lifts his right leg up and circles his foot a few times. “Just a little twinge. Not that bad.”

“Our cryo-replenishers are all occupied by the freed prisoners,” Allura says, looking somewhat sympathetic. “If it is only a small injury you will have to recover on your own.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Keith says, shrugging. “It’s really not a big deal. I think I can walk it off.”

“Let us know if it gets bad, okay?” Shiro puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder with a frown. “Maybe there’s some ice or a coldpack around here you can use.”

“Really, it’s fine,” Keith says firmly, flushing with embarrassment. “Can we just… get on with whatever we’re doing next?”

“Next I believe the paladins should replenish themselves with a nutritious meal!” Coran announces with a clap of his hands, having come down from the observation room. He exchanges an unreadable look with Allura, who nods.

“Yes, I think that is just what they need,” she says, and Keith can’t be bothered to interpret her tone.

“Food?” Hunk says, perking up. “I’m down for that. I’m so hungry right now I could eat anything. Even green goo.”

Slowly they all leave the training deck, Keith lingering behind with Lance. He has to insist Shiro go on ahead without them so that he doesn’t hover. Shiro eventually leaves them to follow later, thanking Lance for “looking after Keith.” He probably thinks Keith is embarrassed. He is, but not because he’s injured.

“I hate to say I told you so,” Lance says when they’re finally alone, still clinging to each other. Keith tries to ignore how close they’re standing, pressed together side by side, tries to ignore how Lance’s arm supports his weight. “But, also, I told you so.”

Keith sighs. “Yeah, I get it. You said this would happen and you’re right. So thanks for… acting casual or whatever, coming up with some bullshit to say.”

“Coming up with bullshit to say is my specialty,” Lance says with a smirk, and Keith snorts. “But you know this is ridiculous, right? We need to tell them.”

Lance is right. Because they can’t avoid this. And what are they going to do if it happens in a real battle? They can’t just not tell the team about the clinging, not when it’s such a major risk. This isn’t like back on Earth because _lives_ are at stake here.

“I know,” Keith says, frowning. “But can it… wait? A bit?”

“How long, dude? Because seriously, either we tell them or they notice. And it could happen at literally the worst time ever.”

“Soon,” Keith says, and sees Lance’s skeptical eyebrow raise. “Really! Soon, just not right now.”

“Fine,” Lance says, rolling his eyes. “Just know that I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’ and hold it over your head for the rest of forever.”

“Got it,” Keith grumbles. “Now shut up and hug me.”

“Oh, Keith.” Lance grins. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Lance turns his body to face Keith’s and suddenly they’re _really_ close. He thought they were close before but they weren’t _this_ close. Uncomfortably, intimately close, Lance’s arm wrapped tightly around his waist and everything pressed together through the bulk of their armor. Keith turns his head away.

Lance wraps his other arm around him, Keith lifting his free hand to reach around his body in turn. And then they’re hugging. It’s maybe not the worst thing Keith has had to endure.

“I can’t believe this is only the second time we’ve ever done this,” Lance says, helmet resting against Keith’s own.

“I thought I told you to shut up.”

“You’re seriously like, the worst at being close to people,” Lance continues. Ignoring him because of course, this is Lance. “Or maybe the best at avoiding people? I’m not sure that’s an enviable claim to fame, Keith.”

“ _Lance,”_ he groans, annoyed. But also, despite himself, just a little bit amused. “You’re so annoying.”

“Come on. You know I’m growing on you, man.”

“Like a gross fungus, maybe.”

Lance shakes with laughter, and so Keith shakes too. “Was that a joke? I didn’t know you had it in you!”

“Shut up.” And Keith maybe squeezes just a little tighter, maybe lets himself lean into the embrace for an extra second. But then he’s letting go and stepping away. No longer clinging. That’s the goal here, after all. “Let’s go eat some gross goo.”

“Sure thing,” Lance says, following him out the door and keeping a respectful distance between them. “Just don’t forget to limp a little when we get there. Right ankle, remember. Gotta really sell the performance to keep it convincing! You ever been in theatre before?”

“Are you saying I'm dramatic?” Keith says, smirking.

They bicker the rest of the way to the dining hall, where Lance reminds him of his injury at the door. Keith follows him inside but his fake limp is minimal because he’s still embarrassed to be lying to everyone about a fake injury. He pauses when he reaches the table, eyeing the empty seat between Lance and Pidge. Despite all the other empty chairs, that’s obviously where he’s supposed to sit. But he doesn’t feel like risking it when they were _just_ clinging to each other not ten minutes ago.

“Can I sit there?” he asks Pidge, and she looks between him and Lance with raised eyebrows before shrugging and moving over.

To find out that eating is just a ruse for another stupid fucking “bonding exercise” is frustrating. Trying to actually get any food in his mouth when his wrists are cuffed to the chair and to Pidge’s wrist is frustrating. But the resulting food fight is a fun way to release some of that frustration, and by the end of it they’re laughing and working together to take on Allura and Coran.

Cue another, more successful, attempt to form Voltron and by the end of the night they’re relaxing in the common room in their civvies in  _much_ better moods than they were for most of the day. Keith is sitting a reasonably safe distance from Lance with Hunk in between as a buffer. He’s enjoying the friendly company and the high of success when Hunk speaks up.

“I just want you to know that I realized when we were in Voltron...” He slips down to sit on the couch properly and wrap his arms around Lance and Keith. He pulls them in for a hug and squeezes tight. “We’re brothers, man.”

The sentiment is nice, but Keith is distracted by the hug. It happens so quickly Keith can barely even feel startled as he is suddenly close – too close – to another person. His fingers brush against Lance’s across Hunk’s stomach and then without thought, without any desire to act, his hand is reaching just a bit further to take hold. _Shit._ They’re holding hands and they’re clinging. _Again_. They managed a year and a half after the first time but they really couldn’t last even a few _hours_ after the second?

“You know?” Hunk asks, looking between them. “Like, we’re totally connected. No secrets, no barriers, no nothing.”

Keith exchanges a wide-eyed look with Lance. Now what? How can they play off just randomly holding hands?

“Speaking of no secrets…” Lance squeaks. Fuck. _No._ He can’t!

“Lance!” Keith hisses.

“I’m glad you guys are feeling the brotherhood here, but why are you… ?” Hunk stops squeezing and they all separate a bit but now he’s looking at their hands, still clasped. Hunk sits awkwardly in between.

Lance huffs. “Keith, c’mon! It’s getting obvious so we might as well just -”

“You said you’d wait!” Keith snarls. “You can’t just decide _for_ me!”

“I think I’m just gonna…” Hunk scoots upward, edging back off the couch to the leave them to fight it out themselves, still holding hands. “Yeah. Um.”

“It’s not a _decision,_ it’s facing reality, dude!” Lance says, and throws his hands up. Except one of those hands is attached to Keith so it just kind of jerks their hands upward.

“Are you guys _clinging_?” Pidge asks from the opposite couch.

Lance and Keith shut up and freeze, looking at their audience. Pidge eyes them speculatively. Shiro watches them with a concerned frown. Hunk is still very confused. Who knows what the mice are thinking.

“Um,” Lance says, eyes pleading with Keith to just _let him say it._

“Keith? Lance?” Shiro says. “Do you want to let us know what’s going on?”

God fucking dammit. _Shit._ Fine!

“Yeah, we’re _clinging_. That’s a thing we do,” Keith finally tells them. He scowls at Lance. “You happy? Now they know.”

“Thrilled, thanks,” Lance mutters.

“Oh. _Oh, wow._ Suddenly a lot of things make so much more sense!” Hunk says, and the comment doesn’t seem to be directed at anyone in particular.

“That’s… good to know,” Shiro tells them. “Thank you for telling us, even if you did feel… pressured to do it.”

There’s an awkward silence where everyone searches for something to say. Lance and Keith look away from each other, and their angry expressions are maybe an amusing contrast to the usually tender gesture of holding hands but no one comments on it.

“Huh. Interesting,” Pidge says. _Interesting?_ _Really?_ She finds out that _Lance_ is Keith’s soulmate and that’s her response?

“I don’t want to make things harder for you,” Shiro says slowly. “But you know this will affect the way we need to fight and train, right?”

“What does that mean?” Keith grumbles, wishing he could cross his arms. But he’s more likely to just pull Lance into his lap and _hell no_ he’s not making this any more awkward than it already is.

“It would be dangerous to put you together in combat situations until you have a handle on your, uh… bond,” Shiro explains. “At the same time, you guys should probably practice for the worst case scenario: fighting while clinging. And also work on, well... _strengthening_ that bond so the clinging isn’t a problem.”

“So what you’re saying is… you’re singling us out for extra training.” Lance frowns. “That’s crazy, Shiro! I can’t handle another day like today plus _more_ training! I’ll _die!”_

“I’m not saying train _more,”_ Shiro says, raising his hands defensively. “Just refocus your efforts a bit, make sure you’re really working _together_ and trying to build a strong relationship. Which you should already be doing as teammates, Lance, so really this is just an extra incentive to work hard.”

“Basically, keep doing what you’re doing except actually _try_ to get along,” Pidge says, and that smirk is just so not helpful right now.

Keith is already feeling uncomfortable as the center of attention while clinging to Lance’s hand. He really doesn’t need everyone telling him he needs to _try harder_ to get along with Lance. He knows that very well. He just happens to be really _bad_ at actually doing it.

“Fine. We’ll work on that.” Keith stands from the couch, dragging Lance to his feet as well with Lance yelping in protest. “If you’re done lecturing us…?”

“Keith -” Shiro tries to say something, probably something soothing and kind, but Keith doesn’t want to hear it.

“Great, so we’re done,” he says loudly, and drags Lance toward the door.

Lance tries to dig his heels in and stop them but ends up staggering along behind anyway, screeching, “Hey! Keith, c’mon! Don’t just storm out again!”

“Keith, you don’t have to -” Hunk tries next, but Keith just talks over him.

“Good night, all. Good work today. Go team. Whatever.”

When they’re finally out of the room and what feels like a safe distance away, Keith stops walking to breathe deeply and calm down. Except it’s hard to calm down when Lance is still attached to him by the hand.

“Don’t just drag me around!” he squawks. “It’s rude! Do you have to be such a dick _all_ the time?”

“Lance,” Keith says. Quiet but firm. He will _not_ yell, and he will not get angry. He’s going to communicate calmly and _try_ to do this right. “I’m sorry for dragging you. I’m upset and I don’t want to talk to them right now. Can we please just… hug? So I can go to my room and get some sleep?” His voice at the end there gets a bit strained, but at least he’s not yelling.

Lance looks at him for a second, frown softening, before he nods and says quietly, “Yeah. Sure thing, man.”

Keith steps closer and grips Lance’s jacket. He puts his head on Lance’s shoulder and sighs as Lance’s free arm wraps tight around him.

“I’m sorry it happened like that, and not when you felt ready,” Lance says.

“Not gonna say ‘I told you so?’”

“No.”

Keith shrugs. “Probably my fault anyway. Should have listened to you.”

“I do have some pretty great ideas,” Lance says. But his tone is more teasing than cocky so Keith isn’t tempted to punch him. And he _does_ have some good ideas. Occasionally. Except Keith’s not actually going to say that so he says nothing. Instead he closes his eyes and breathes.

This isn’t so bad. At least the team knows now. They don’t have to try and hide it. Even if it means receiving some knowing or judgemental looks occasionally, or some forced bonding time with Lance. It’s okay. They’re paladins now – soldiers and pilots. Needing to hug Lance occasionally is really the least of his problems.

“How are you feeling?” Lance asks, and it’s a reminder that Keith is standing in the hall hugging Lance. That he has been for a while. And probably for longer than he needs to.

He tests the grip of his hand and, sure enough, he can let go and step away now. So he does.

“Fine,” Keith says. He avoids eye contact and looks at his feet instead. “Um. Thanks.”

“No worries.” He can hear the smile in Lance’s voice. “You know... you can hug me whenever, right? Don’t have to wait until you’re clinging and desperate for me.”

 _Desperate?_ For _Lance?_

Keith looks up to glare at Lance’s stupid, smug face. Did he really think for a second this isn’t so bad? He was wrong. It’s _awful_ to be stuck with this idiot. He turns and walks away without a word.

“Wha- _Hey!_ ” Lance is yelling after him. “I don’t even get a ‘goodnight!?’ Keith! _Keeeeith!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, Klance hugs. The reveal is maybe a bit underwhelming, but hey, how were they supposed to react? Awkward feels all around.
> 
> If anyone's waiting for a slightly more in depth explanation of the clinging/soulmate thing, I plan for that to happen when Allura and Coran find out (because they're going to need it explained to them). But looks like that won't happen until... chapter 7?
> 
> Another hug coming up, party times, and then shit hits the fan with Sendak and all that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun times in the village interrupted by a giant purple robot thing falling from the sky. Fun times in the castle interrupted by Pidge's announcement and an explosion and... yeah. Bad things.

Unlike yesterday, the day starts out very well. Everyone ignores the issue of last night’s outburst and makes no comment about the fact that Keith and Lance are maybe technically soulmates or something. They train and successfully form Voltron. They’re even starting to get the hang of maneuvering together as one larger, giant robot. (Even if Lance insists on being an idiot and knocking them over at one point.)

For lunch he gets to eat something that isn’t disgusting green goo, thanks to Hunk’s incredible ability to cook delicious things even with weird, unfamiliar ingredients. (Hunk watches Keith and Lance eat very attentively, and Keith can’t tell if he’s doing it because he knows they’re soulmates now, or if he just wants to know what they think of the food.)

They’re interrupted by an alarm, but the castle’s “intruder” turns out to be a seemingly harmless local. Who invites them back to his village. Because Allura is apparently their “lion goddess.” (At this point, Keith is starting to accept any and all bizarre things that happen as a matter of course in his new life as a paladin of Voltron.)

Hanging with the Arusians seems a bit reckless and is probably a waste of time, but even Keith has to admit that they’re cute and friendly. One guy jumps up to hug him, which is very weird but it’s hard to take offense when he’s so small and adorable.

“Hey!” Lance’s voice cuts into their cuddling. “After all the trouble I go through to get a hug outta you, all this guy has to do is tackle you and it’s cool? Not fair, Keith!”

“Um,” Keith says. He can’t tell if Lance is teasing or if he is legitimately upset and jealous of this small alien. “Sorry?”

“You better be!” Lance steps closer, and something in his expression tells Keith to be wary. The Arusian must see it too, because he jumps off and goes to cuddle someone else. “You know what this means, right?”

“No…” Keith takes a step back, feeling uncomfortably like prey as Lance gets closer. “What?”

Lance grins, but there are a few too many teeth showing for the grin to be friendly. “I need to make up for all those missed opportunities!”

And then Lance pounces. Keith does _not_ shriek, but he maybe yelps a bit as he twists away from Lance’s reach. A burst of adrenaline later and Keith is tearing through the Arusian village, Lance at his heels screaming battle cries with arms outstretched.

Except Lance’s battle cries all sound something like, “I’m going to _hug_ yoooooou!” It’s really the opposite of intimidating, so why is Keith running?

“Lance, _stop!”_ Keith shouts breathlessly, veering around a huddle of Arusians. They scatter and that slows Lance down a bit, but his legs are fucking _long_ and he’s surprisingly agile.

“Not until you hug me!”

“NO! Fucking… _stop chasing me!”_

There’s a cart of food in his way but Keith leaps over it and keeps running.

“Never! Accept your fate!”

Keith is tempted to pull out his bayard to ward him off, but knowing Lance, he would probably just impale himself on it. Keith can’t keep running forever. What can -?

An arm shoots out in front of him at shoulder height and Keith runs straight into it. He jolts to a stop, barely finding his footing to avoid falling on his ass. His eyes follow that arm to a shoulder, a neck, and now he’s staring at Allura’s pissed off face. That’s when Lance barrels into him from behind, wrapping his arms around Keith in a bearhug with a victorious, “Hah! Got you!”

 _“What_ are you two _doing?”_ Allura says, scowling furiously.

“Uh...” Keith says. One hand reaches up to grip Lance’s arm without thought, but he otherwise ignores the idiot who is now resting his chin on Keith’s shoulder.

“You are _Paladins of Voltron!”_ she hisses, “I expect you to conduct yourself with more decorum than… than _roughhousing children_ when in the presence of our allies!”

“It’s called tag, Princess,” Lance says, obviously completely unapologetic. “It’s an important human bonding ritual and will definitely make us better teammates. No need to be jealous, you can play too!”

Allura’s face scrunches up and she opens her mouth to respond. But Keith will never know if she would have called Lance out on his bullshit or not, because she abruptly looks away with a puzzled frown.

“Shiro?” she says, and Keith looks around for the black paladin before remembering that her earrings are also comms units.

“What’s going on?” Keith asks, worried at the hint of possible trouble.

That’s when the ground shakes and they spot the giant, flaming something that is currently entering the atmosphere.

“Oh, no.” Keith says. “We gotta get to our lions!”

Allura moves to evacuate the Arusians and Keith tries to take a step forward.  _Tries._ Unsuccessfully, because he’s restrained by the grip of Lance’s arms. _Fuck!_

“Dammit, Lance!” he growls, “You just fucking had to -!”

“I know, I get it,” Lance says, all levity gone from his voice. “But it’s fine. Keith, just take a second and breathe. Close your eyes.”

Keith wants to swear and snarl more, to pull away and stab something with his bayard. But Keith closes his fucking eyes and breathes. Because despite everything, Lance is a lot better at this touchy-feely crap than him and if they are going to have _any_ chance of getting out of this Keith needs to listen to him.

“Good. You’re good, Keith. You have all the time you need,” Lance says.

His head rests heavy on Keith’s shoulder, his arms are tight around Keith’s ribcage, and his chest is solid against Keith’s back. Keith tries to focus on Lance’s presence and his words, and not on whatever new danger is waiting for them.

“You listening?” Lance asks, and Keith nods.

“We’re going to get to our lions and see what’s going on,” Lance says firmly. “Whatever it is, we’re going to deal with it and be fine. All of us. ‘Cause we’re _Voltron._ We’ve got magic robot lions on our side, dude. We’re awesome and we kick major ass. Got it?”

“Got it,” Keith confirms, and he is maybe just a bit grateful for this moment. Because as annoying as Lance’s over-confidence usually is, right now it’s nice to think that they can actually pull through and overcome whatever new awful thing is waiting for them.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith nods and opens his eyes. At the same time, Lance lets go and step back.

...Also at the same time, Keith sees Hunk trying to take shelter with the Arusians. _Really?_ They have a job to do! Keith grabs Hunk by the collar of his chestplate and drags him back toward their lions. “Not you!” Keith grumbles at him. Lance is already running up Blue’s ramp.

* * *

As it turns out, Lance is right. The giant purple robot with a boomerang energy weapon is daunting to face and tricky to defeat. But then Red nudges Keith into using his bayard and he’s slaying the beast with a giant fucking sword like a badass and they all pull through. Because they’re Voltron and they _are_ awesome.

That feeling is reinforced a few hours later when they say goodbye to the aliens they freed from the Galra. To be thanked for saving them, to know that they were able to give these people their lives back and give them hope… it is definitely very awesome.

Partying with the Arusians in the castle’s entry hall isn’t quite so awesome, but at least it’s somewhat entertaining. Especially when Lance tastes whatever drink Coran has been passing around.

After his initial disgusted outburst Lance stands shuddering and silent, looking like some kind of trauma victim. What a drama queen. Keith dares Hunk to poke him and they watch as Lance falls to the floor, still stiff and looking to be in some pain.

“Is he… okay?” Keith asks, actually concerned now. What the fuck was in that cup? Was it even safe for humans to drink? Is Lance _poisoned?_

“I… think so?” Hunk says, squinting down at his friend. “He has a similar response to bad hamburgers. But not _off_ bad, just badly prepared bad. He can overreact sometimes.”

 _“Overreact!”_ Lance shrieks from the floor. “Bad hamburgers are a crime against all cows! I don’t over-anything!”

Hunk smiles. “Yeah, he’s fine.”

“I’m not,” Lance moans, rolling on the ground. “I’m _dying._ I can still taste it, Hunk!”

“It can’t be _that_ bad,” Keith says, crossing his arms. Was he seriously worried about this jackass?

“Says you!” He raises a hand to point at Keith. “You haven’t even tried it. Don’t pretend you know what you’re talking about!”

“Ooh, that’s sounds like a dare to me,” Hunk says. “You gonna accept the challenge, Keith? Drink some Nunvill?”

“You want Nunvill?” An Arusian asks, offering up his own cup to Keith. And holy shit. When did so many Arusians get here? Why didn’t he notice them crowding around earlier? Are they just… listening to them talk? That’s kind of weird.

The little guy looks so hopeful and pleased to be offering his drink, Keith can’t stand to turn him down. “Um, thanks,” he says, and takes the cup with a forced smile.

And he holds the cup in his hand, everyone watching him expectantly.

“Um,” Keith says.

“Don’t back out now, dude!” Lance shouts from the floor. “You have to drink it!”

“Right…” Keith says, staring at the purple liquid skeptically. Lance drank it and he hasn’t died _yet,_ so… It’s probably fine, right? He drinks.

It takes a second for the taste to register. _Holy fuck that shit’s nasty._ He promptly spits it right back out. And into Hunk’s face. Shit! For a long second Keith is worried that Hunk will be angry. Keith spit the gross alien juice out into his _face!_

But Hunk turns back and cracks a joke about the weird marshmallow-looking food things being his eyes, so no hard feelings, right? _Thank fuck._ They laugh. And Lance finally drags his sorry ass off the floor to get in Keith’s face.

“Hah! See? It _is_ that bad!” Lance crows. “At least I managed to swallow it!” His pride at being able to swallow Nunvill is as stupid as it is funny.

“Are you really going to brag about how you prefer to swallow?” Keith says with a smirk.

He’s on the receiving end of a pair of wide-eyed stares while Keith’s brain catches up with his words. Oh god. Did he really just say that? Fuck.

“Um,” Keith says. Hunk is blushing and Lance is cackling.

“K-Keith!” Lance says, gasping and wiping away tears of laughter. “That was _dirty!_ Is your brain secretly a gutter or is this a special occasion?”

“Shut up,” he mutters, depositing his empty cup on a passing tray.

“Oh no, my dude,” Lance says, leaning in far too close and leering. “I want to hear more. Are you saying Nunvill isn’t _all_ you spit out?”

“Back off, Lance,” Keith says, crossing his arms.

“Lance, maybe -” Hunk says, putting a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“But I’m curious now!” Lance continues, paying their warnings no mind. “What else you got? You know any dirty jokes? Or maybe something that starts with ‘a girl from Nantucket?’”

Keith would be seriously tempted to punch Lance in his stupid, smirking face if that wouldn’t probably result in them clinging to each other. He’s still tempted.

But instead of punching Lance, Keith turns and walks away while he still has his temper under control and the thinnest veneer of patience.

“Hey, wait! Keith -” Lance says behind him.

“Lance, buddy, you -” Hunk says, and that’s the last Keith hears.

With some discomfort but great determination, he attempts to make friends with some Arusians. And actually sort of succeeds, despite some language and cultural barriers. Probably because they’re already so friendly.

In retrospect, Keith walking away from Lance is when everything really starts going downhill.

The night’s truly disastrous chain of events kicks off with Pidge gathering them (most of them – they can’t find Coran and Lance) to explain she’s leaving Voltron to look for her family. Which, yes, is a good cause. But how can she just ignore the greater cause of Voltron’s mission? They have to fight and save _everyone’s families._ And she’s going to risk that for two individuals and her own happiness? He doesn’t say the word “selfish” out loud, but he thinks it.

He’s simmering in barely contained anger and resentment when an explosion rocks the castle. Disastrous event number two. Arusians are screaming and running around as the castle’s power fails completely. They locate the center of the explosion and run through smoke to find Coran on the ground and the castle’s main crystal destroyed. And in front of it lying unconscious… _Lance_.

Keith stands frozen as Shiro rushes to Lance’s side. _Lance is hurt._ Keith takes shallow breaths, his chest tight and his throat constricting. _Lance is hurt._ Keith doesn’t even know how bad. But he’s not waking up and that’s a bad sign, isn't it?  _Lance is hurt._ The castle has no power, and without power how can they help Lance? _Lance is hurt._ What can he do? He can’t do _anything! Lance is hurt and Keith can’t help him!_

The Arusian leader runs in to tell them his village is under attack.

 _There. That’s_ something he can do. Keith can protect the village. He… can’t help Lance.

Pidge takes Hunk and Coran to the ready pod so they can go off and find a new crystal. Keith lingers with Allura.

“...Keep him safe?” Keith asks Shiro.

“I’ll tend to Lance and stand watch over the castle,” Shiro promises. And it has to be enough.

Keith lets his fear fuel his anger. His anger energizes his sprint all the way from the castle to the village, his jump into the flaming ruins, and his discovery that it’s all just a fucking diversion. The fear grows, and therefore so does his anger. Sprinting back to the castle he’s physically running on fumes, but he can’t let the weakness of his body keep him from protecting his new home – protecting his new team.

It’s not enough. The particle barrier slams into place right in front of him and Allura, and just like that the enemy has control of the castle. The enemy has all the lions as well as Pidge, Shiro, and Lance. _Fuck. FUCK!_ He can’t do _anything!_

Pidge contacts them and Allura explains how she can stop the castle from taking off, but Keith is helpless. _Useless._

He wants to scream and tear at the barrier with his bayard until it falls. But that’s stupid. Impossible. He can do nothing but wait and trust that his team will pull through.

Wait and trust.

Keith clenches his fists. Closes his eyes and breathes. Thinks back to Lance’s words in the village. (Was that really today, just hours ago?) Lance said that whatever happens, the team will deal with it and they’ll be fine. All of them. Because they’re Voltron, he said. And he was right before.

_Lance is hurt. Shiro is captured. Pidge is facing the enemy alone. And Keith can’t do anything to help them._

He shakes the thought away. Whatever happens, they’ll be _fine._

Wait and trust.

Keith waits. Trusting is harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, Keith is still very defensive and doesn't respond well to teasing. Lance should probably get the hint and stop. But... nope, not gonna happen. At least you can really count on him when shit gets real. *hugs poor Lance*
> 
> (When I read "Keith lets his fear fuel his anger" I can't stop thinking: Yoda would be so disappointed. Keith definitely has some Sith potential.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team takes down Sendak and Keith gets Lance to a healing pod before having an interesting conversation with Hunk.

_The mice._ Of all people it’s four alien, sort-of telepathic rodents that save the day and lower the particle barrier. But Keith really doesn’t care _how_ it happens – just that it does. Because he’s been pacing helplessly in front of the castle for hours. All night. He just needs to get inside and help.

He’s past the point of exhaustion and back to being fired up with anxious fear and anger. So when the barrier drops Keith wastes no time charging in, Allura right behind.

With everybody’s help he manages to trap Sendak behind a barrier with the Galra crystal. Allura knocks him out and takes him somewhere to be held prisoner. And Keith can finally let go of some of his anxiety because the castle is _safe._

But Lance is still hurt.

Pidge is looking after Shiro so Keith goes to Lance. He’s awake now, having woken up to shoot Sendak, but is still on the ground and probably in a lot of pain.

“Lance, are you okay?” Keith offers his hand and Lance takes it. Keith kneels by his side to help him sit up. Clinging is nothing but a passing thought. It doesn’t matter right now.

“We did it,” Lance says, fighting to smile through a grimace. “We _are_ a good team.”

Keith can only stare, thinking: Lance is hurt _but he’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay._ He tries to convince his still-racing heart of that. Until he absorbs what Lance just said and forces a distracted smile.

“Yeah,” Keith says. “Did you doubt it?”

Lance snorts in laughter and then groans, clutching at his ribs.

“Hey, take it easy,” Keith says, leaning closer. But there’s nothing he can really do to help, is there?

“Was definitely feeling some doubt, yeah,” Lance says, then squeezes Keith’s hand. “But not anymore.”

“Well... it’s like you said -” Keith thinks back to how he took some comfort in Lance’s words, how it helped him get through the long hours of waiting. “We’re _Voltron._ We kick ass. You shouldn’t doubt it.”

Lance laughs again. And then groans again.

“Dammit, stop making me laugh,” he complains. “And I’m pretty sure I said we kick _major_ ass.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Obviously. It’s right there in the word ‘major.’” Lance finds the strength to roll his eyes. “It’s a whole other level of ass-kicking, Keith.”

The idea that there are apparently nuances and levels to ass-kicking is new to Keith. At the same time he really doesn’t give a shit. It means the same thing. But for once he chooses not to argue.

“If you say so.”

Shiro approaches, looking tired and battered but at least he can walk around and smile like everything is normal. Pidge looks a little more shaken and stands quietly.

“We should get Lance prepped for one of the pods,” Shiro says. “That way he can get in as soon as Hunk and Coran get back with a crystal.”

“Do I have to wear one of those white bodysuits?” Lance asks, wrinkling his nose. “White bodysuits aren’t flattering on _anyone.”_

“Seriously?” Keith says and shakes his head. “You’re going to be healed by magical alien technology. You don’t have to look good while it happens.”

 _“Au contraire,_ Keith.” Lance shifts. He winces. His voice is thready and hoarse. “I always look good. But I also want to look the _best_ good that I can at all times.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Do you think you can stand, Lance?” Shiro interrupts their bullshit. “Or should I carry you?”

“I got him,” Keith says.

He puts on his helmet so it’s not left behind. Then he lets go of Lance’s hand to slip an arm under Lance’s knees. Lance hisses as he’s jostled but he has to be moved. Keith wraps his other arm around Lance’s back, pulling him into Keith’s chest as he stands. Lance is heavy in Keith’s arms but Keith grits his teeth and starts walking.

It’s not until later that Keith will realize they didn’t have to hug in order for him to let go of Lance’s hand.

“Did I miss the wedding?” Lance mumbles. He does sound kind of out of it, but now Keith wonders if he’s delirious. _Wedding?_

“What?” Keith asks. He can hear Pidge snickering behind him.

“Bridal carry,” Lance explains, closing his eyes and resting his head against Keith’s shoulder. “Keep up, Keith.”

“You’re an idiot,” Keith says, and he’s glad no one is looking to see his face get red.

“Maybe,” Lance says. “But I’m also cute. So who cares?”

Keith has nothing to say to that, so he doesn’t respond. After walking for a while they reach the infirmary. Keith carries Lance inside after Shiro while Pidge waits in the hall. Shiro finds one of the bodysuits and Keith carefully places Lance on the tall counter which is maybe meant for patients to lie on. That’s what he figures, anyway, so that’s what they’ll use it for.

“Lance.” Keith nudges him as he sits, eyes closed with a grimace. “We need to get your armor off.”

“It hurts,” Lance whispers, and Keith’s chest tightens with sympathetic pain.

“I know, but we’ve gotta do this,” he says.

Lance doesn’t really react so Keith starts to take his armor off for him. Shiro steps in to quietly assist. That they might cling barely even occurs to Keith. He doesn’t hesitate to touch and as it turns out it isn’t a problem. For whatever reason, the reflex isn’t triggered.

Keith doesn’t let his eyes or hands linger on burns or bruises or wide expanses of smooth skin as they strip him of his armor, and then the black space suit. They make sure his injuries are clean and nothing’s still bleeding. By the time they’re pulling on the white bodysuit, Lance is unconscious. His dead weight makes it harder for Keith and Shiro to get him dressed, but not being awake is easier on Lance so Keith doesn’t mind the extra effort. He’s picking Lance up again when he hears Hunk’s voice coming from the comms unit in his helmet.

“We’ve got the crystal!” he says. Keith breathes a sigh of relief. Hunk and Coran have returned. The castle’s power will be back soon. Lance is going to be okay.

“Great timing, you guys,” Shiro says. “Lance is ready for the cryo-replenisher so we’re taking him there now.”

Keith ignores the chatter as everyone catches up with each other. Hearing about the Balmera is interesting, but he doesn’t want a recap of the hours when the castle was under enemy control. Instead, he focuses on breathing. He focuses on the strain and fatigue of his arms and shoulders, and the weight of Lance in his arms. On getting Lance to a healing pod.

Allura meets them there and helps him get Lance inside and start the healing process. And then Pidge is telling them that she’ll be staying with the team, after all. The relief he feels is less than at having everyone alive and safe for the moment, but he still feels it. His anger at her wanting to leave in the first place is forgotten in the face of everything that’s happened. Keith welcomes her back to the team.

Allura and Pidge go off, maybe to meet with Coran and Hunk or maybe just to rest. Keith lingers though, and Shiro with him.

“You okay, Keith?” Shiro asks, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Keith nods, arms crossed, as he stares at Lance’s healing form. “Of course. I barely fought,” he says, and he can’t quite help sounding bitter. “Just stood outside as you guys got beat up and captured.”

“You did everything you could,” Shiro assures him gently. “And you got there in the end, helped capture Sendak.”

Keith doesn’t think it’s nearly enough, but tries to accept Shiro’s words gracefully. He looks over.

“You look like shit, Shiro,” he says bluntly, and Shiro laughs. “Go get some sleep so I’m not horrified at the sight of you.”

Shiro shoves him sideways a step and then stretches his arms up with a sigh. “Yeah,” he says. “I do need some sleep. But so do you. You’re not going to stay up, are you?”

Keith shrugs, looking back at Lance.

“You know,” Shiro says. “He’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah.” He does know that. It doesn’t make the waiting any less awful. More waiting on the sidelines, unable to help.

Shiro sighs and says, “Okay. Just try and get some rest before you collapse. I don’t wanna put you in a pod, too.”

Keith nods, but doesn’t promise anything. Shiro leaves. By now he’s used to Keith’s moods and is willing to leave him alone when he wants it. Right now, Keith wants it.

After a while, standing and watching Lance sleep gets boring. His eyes droop. He’s so tired. But he stays. Which is why he’s still here when Hunk walks in, wearing yellow pajamas and carrying a blanket and pillow.

“Oh! Hi, Keith!” Hunk says, coming closer with a smile. But he looks tired, too. They’re all tired. The past few days have all been long and stressful, and that’s a serious understatement. “Didn’t know you’d be here, but _duh,_ of course you are.”

“Uh.” Keith isn’t sure what to say to that, or to the assumptions unspoken. “I can leave…”

“No, don’t do that!” Hunk says, settling in on the floor wrapped up in his blanket and hugging the pillow. “You can keep me company. C’mon, man. Sit!” He pats a spot on the floor right next to him.

“Okay…” Keith says, hesitant, but he sits.

They watch Lance in the pod. Keith isn’t sure if he’s ever spent time with Hunk like this, one on one. He doesn’t think so. When would they have had the time? Hunk fidgets beside him.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you… since I found out. About Lance. Because, uh, Lance talked about having a soulmate a lot,” Hunks says. “Back when I first met him.”

Keith’s whole body tenses up, but he says nothing. So Hunk keeps talking.

“Not because he knew he had one, but because he wanted to. It’s not that common obviously, but all those movies make it out to be this big, wonderful thing, you know? Real romantic, to find your other half. So Lance was convinced he had one somewhere and he liked to talk about it.”

Keith grimaces. Lance turned out to be right, didn’t he? But it wasn’t some big, wonderful thing. It wasn’t romantic at all.

“Sometimes he’d wonder what she’d look like. Er… he was convinced it was some pretty girl, you see. So he tried to shake hands with all the girls he met. Practiced lines to impress her. Planned out their first date and their wedding. It was Lance-kinds of ridiculous and probably not healthy to focus so much on the idea of someone who might not exist… But it was important to him, so I couldn’t just tell him that, right? It made him happy.”

And then Keith fucked it up. Keith wishes, for Lance’s sake, that it _had_ been some pretty girl. That Lance had shaken her hand and dropped a stupid line that made her laugh. That they’d have gone on that perfect date and gotten married and lived happily ever after. But that didn’t happen. Couldn’t happen. Instead, he has Keith.

“And then he stopped talking about soulmates, all of a sudden. It was kind of weird so I asked him about it. He said it was time to stop fantasizing and live in reality. That’s all he ever said.”

“Hunk -” Keith says, voice strangled, regret and guilt churning in his guts. Hunk keeps talking.

“But he talked about _you_ a lot. Mostly it was to complain about really stupid things. Your hair, how grumpy you looked, how you kept beating him for the top rank in class. After you disappeared he still kept talking about you, said you were probably off doing something really cool just to show him up.”

“Hunk, why are you telling me this?” Keith grits out, hands fisted in his lap.

“I didn’t know it then, that he’d found his soulmate, right? But it makes a lot of sense, is what I’m trying to say. Because his soulmate was _still_ important to him, but his soulmate was also you.” Hunk shrugs, and searches for words. “Out here, we have to work as a team to help save the universe. And the reality isn’t as nice as the fantasy. But I think you guys will be good together.” Hunk leans over to nudge his shoulder. “You weren’t what he expected but probably what he needs. So... I’m glad he has you.”

“It’s not like that,” Keith protests, glaring at the floor. “We’re not…” He trails off, leaving the expectation of what they _should_ be unspoken.

“I know that. But you are teammates. And by now I think you’re maybe friends. You don’t have to be anything else in order to be good for each other, buddy. Just look after him. Let him look after you.”

“I think…” Keith says. He breathes, tries to release some of the tension and the discomfort and the guilt. “I can do that.”

“Of course you can, dude!” Hunk smiles. “You already are. We all are, and that’s why Team Voltron is awesome.”

“And kicks major ass,” Keith says with a tentative smile. Hunk offers him a fist and Keith bumps it with his own.

“Exactly!” Hunk adjusts his blanket with a tired sigh.

They sit in amiable silence.

“Man,” Hunk says. “I could really use a nap right now. You wanna cuddle with me?”

“What?” Keith squeaks, eyes wide. Hunk laughs.

“I promise I’m super comfy,” he says, patting his chest. “If Lance were awake he could testify. C’mon, let’s take a nap.”

“Um. My armor?” Keith says.

Hunk shrugs and says, “Yeah, that would probably be uncomfortable. You can take it off if you want.”

“Um,” Keith says, face twisting. Hunk smiles.

“You don’t have to, dude. I just figure we could use the sleep and you might want to keep an eye on Lance like I do.”

“I think... I’d rather nap in my room,” Keith says, fiddling with the vambraces of his armor.

“That’s cool,” Hunk says, and stretches out on the floor, resting his head on his pillow. “The offers open, though. Anytime.”

“Thanks, Hunk.”

Keith stays a little longer, watching Lance and listening to Hunk breathe. It’s nice, but he really is tired. And Hunk will be here if he leaves. Even if Lance won’t wake up until tomorrow, he shouldn’t be alone.

Keith finally stands, shaking off his fatigue. He needs to get to his room. Lance will be okay.

“Goodnight, Keith,” Hunk says quietly, eyelids drooping and nuzzling into his pillow. Keith smiles.

“Goodnight.”

Keith walks to his room, strips off his armor, and is asleep as soon as he stretches out on the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotta wonder if those white suits are needed for the healing? Because talk about inconvenient, trying to get one of those things on while you're bleeding out. I figure maybe they're special because unlike most clothing they don't interfere with the healing process, so they're actually just there for modesty. That way if someone is *actually* about to die it's just: strip 'em naked and stick 'em in a pod.
> 
> I'll let you wonder if they didn't cling because of Feelings or because Lance was injured. ;) Next up: Lance wakes up and Allura finds out about the clinging.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith trains. Lance wakes up. Pidge reveals her secret. And Allura finally finds out what 'clinging' means. Uh oh.

Keith forces himself to wake up after a few hours so he can get back to sleep later in the castle’s day cycle. The constantly being at risk of dying at all hours thing is really messing with his sleep schedule. Luckily, they have the day to recover after their most recent near-death experience. So Keith can do what he wants instead of following along with whatever horrible “training” Coran and Allura might have planned.

He checks in on Lance and stays with him while Hunk changes and fetches some food for lunch. And then because he can only make small talk for so long – even with a guy as friendly as Hunk – he decides to train with his bayard. He really needs to figure out how to fight with it beyond “stab at them until they bleed.”

Once in the training deck, Keith pulls out his bayard and practices swinging it around, getting used to the weight and the feel of it. His arms are going to get tired after a while. He needs to get stronger. He tries a few defensive positions, tries to analyze where he’s left vulnerable and how he might deflect an oncoming attack. He switches hands whenever one side gets fatigued.

Eventually he’s out of ideas and without actual instruction the only thing left to do is try things out against an actual opponent. With some nervousness but more determination, he starts the training sequence to call out the Gladiator. Level one.

It kicks his ass. He’s left lying on the ground with fresh bruises and wounded pride. Okay. But where did he go wrong? Keith goes through the brief fight in his head, trying to pick out what he could have done better. He stands with a groan and practices the block he should have made. Again, and again. And then with the other hand. He practices the footwork that tripped him up. And practices more.

When he feels ready, he fights the Gladiator again. It still kicks his ass, but maybe it took a couple seconds longer this time? He reviews, he thinks, and he practices.

Keith repeats this cycle several times over until he’s dripping with sweat and gasping for air, every muscle in his body shaking with fatigue. It’ll do. For today at least.

He takes a shower and joins Hunk for another meal in front of Lance’s pod. Pidge joins them this time, and later Shiro comes in and they all spend some time together talking about what will happen next. Lance will wake up and they’ll leave Arus. They’ll start making a real effort to help people, fight the Galra, and take down Zarkon’s empire. Along the way, they’ll try and find Pidge’s family, too.

It’s a lot to think about. Frightening to think about. Can they really do it? Seven people and some mice against a universe? It sounds ridiculous. Hopeless. But they have Voltron on their side, and they’ve survived so far. They have to try.

* * *

Keith stands in front of Lance’s pod the next morning, bright and early after a quick breakfast of gross goo. Hunk is already there and the rest of the team trickles in eventually. Allura and Coran arrive last.

“Good morning, paladins,” Allura says. “It seems you are all eager to see Lance on his feet again.”

‘Eager’ is one word for it. ‘Impatient’ is Keith’s preferred word. His arms are crossed and he’s itching to pace or punch something or _anything_ to let out this built up energy. Standing around waiting is his least favorite thing to do.

“It’s wonderful to see you bonding,” Coran says, approaching the terminal that monitors the pods. “Even if it’s over something tragic like an injured teammate.”

Bonding. Sure. Keith just wants to see Lance walking around again, smiling his stupid smug smirk and making finger guns or something. Something that shows he’s healthy and safe and _not_ going to die.

“How much longer?” Keith asks.

“Oh, not long now,” Coran hums, reading the gibberish that is probably an Altean language. “Very soon.”

 _That’s_ fucking helpful. Keith stands and waits in front of the pod, watching Lance with a frown while everyone chats around him. At one point he reaches out to tap on the semi-opaque barrier but Allura knocks his hand away and he maybe... pouts. A bit.

The others get into some stupid discussion about units of time. It’s fucking pointless but it’s less frustrating than staring at Lance’s dumb, sleeping face so he wanders over to look at what they’re doing. Naturally, it’s while they’re looking at fucking _clocks_ that Lance wakes up and wanders over, looking exhausted despite all the time he’s spent unconscious. Apparently time in the cryo-replenisher is not as restful as real sleep.

Hunk pulls Lance into a huge hug and Keith smiles, happy to see Lance awake again. Until Lance flirts with Allura. Idiot. But this is what Keith wants, isn’t it? Lance healthy and saying stupid shit again. So maybe it’s not as annoying as it could be.

Hunk takes Lance to his room to change and then they all meet in the dining hall so Lance can eat breakfast and catch up with everything that’s happened since he got injured. Way back during the party. That feels like ages ago.

They’re all praising each other for their good work during the castle’s invasion when Lance says,

“Wow. Thanks, everybody.” And then he turns to Keith with a smirk. “Sounds like the mice did more than you, though.”

It feels like the worst sort of betrayal, to have Lance teasing him for what Keith is feeling most insecure about. Keith wasn’t smart enough to realize the village was a diversion sooner, and he wasn’t fast enough to get back to the castle in time to help. So he stood on the sidelines while everyone else acted to save themselves.

“I punched Sendak!” Keith protests, because if he doesn’t get angry and defensive he’ll feel the hurt, instead.

Lance raises his eyebrows at his vehemence, for the briefest of moments looking surprised and maybe regretful. Then he shrugs, smug grin back in place.

“Not saying you didn’t contribute. But you can’t always get all the glory, either.”

 _Glory!_ As if that’s what Keith cares about here. Keith is upset because Lance could have _died_ and here Lance is acting like they’re back at the Garrison and duking it out for the highest grade on some fucking _test._ Aren’t they past this by now?

“We had a bonding moment,” Keith says. Did it really mean so little to him? “I cradled you in my arms!” He thought they could get along better now. He wanted to _try._ He was prepared to be friends at least, but here Lance is acting like an asshole.

Lance looks surprised again, before his expression morphs into that stupid leer. He leans forward.

“Gee, I didn’t know it meant that much to you, Keith.” Lance shoots him a wink and some finger guns. “But I don’t have to be injured or unconscious for you to cradle me in your arms.”

What? The fuck. Keith is gaping but Lance is already turning away to ask Allura about Sendak. Keith tunes them out as he tries to understand what the fuck just happened.

Did Lance just… _flirt_ with him? Why would he do that? Wasn’t he just _insulting him?_ And then he turns right around and… _what the fuck?_

He barely listens to Hunk’s passionate speech about the Balmerans and how it’s the paladins’ duty to help them or something. Keith is prepared to follow Shiro out of the room and continue to freak out silently in his head when Pidge stops them.

“I need to come clean,” Pidge says. And Keith forces himself to pay closer attention. She sounds serious, this is probably important. “I’m afraid this may change the way you all think about me.”

Keith is ready for something big – some big secret that will shock him. But then Pidge rambles about how she is actually… a girl.

Oh. Keith knew that, didn’t he? Was he not supposed to think that? This is why he avoided pronouns outside of his own head. Pidge outwardly presents kind of neutral but he’d pretty much assumed… This is why he avoided pronouns. But at least he guessed correctly?

Lance is comically shocked, but everyone else is nodding and expressing a complete lack of surprise. So at least Keith isn’t the only one.

“Pidge, owning who you are is going to make you a better paladin,” Shiro says. And it’s such a Shiro thing to say, like something he ripped off a fortune cookie or a self-help blog except he replaced “person” with “paladin.” But Keith can’t laugh because he means it so genuinely.

“But this reminds me,” Allura says thoughtfully. “Of something else the mice told me. As long as we’re discussing secrets...”

Wait… the mice told her? Told her... a secret? Everyone gives her their attention and waits for her to elaborate.

“There was some fuss the other night regarding Lance and Keith,” she says, and Keith feels a heavy weight drop in his stomach. _Fuck._ “But the mice didn’t understand and I’m afraid that I don’t either. Would you be willing to explain the significance of the word ‘clinging?’”

Keith crosses his arms and glares at the floor. No. No he is not willing. Someone else can have the pleasure. It’s not like he doesn’t want her to know. Kind of forgot that she didn’t already, actually, after he told the other paladins. But he is _not_ going to be the one to try and explain it.

There’s a long silence where all the humans in the room probably look at each other and search for words.

“Is that… not something that can happen with Alteans?” Shiro asks eventually.

“We cling in the sense that we may hold tightly to something,” Allura says. “But the word seemed to have some other meaning between Lance and Keith. Is that not so?”

“No. You’re right,” Shiro says. “It’s just, uh… hard to explain. It’s something that can happen between humans that are… the term is ‘soulmates,’ but that has a lot of historical implications that people don’t always agree with, these days.”

Keith sneaks a peak at Lance to see how he’s taking this. He stands with his usual hunched posture, hands in the pockets of his jacket and eyes cast upward with a frown. His eyes dart toward Keith and Keith looks away again to avoid eye contact.

“But what is it?” Allura asks patiently. “Do you think you can explain?”

“It’s an involuntary reflex that will only be triggered by touching your soulmate,” Pidge volunteers, and her matter-of-fact tone is a welcome relief. “When it’s triggered, both parties will latch on to the other person wherever they touched and won’t let go – _can’t_ let go until certain conditions are met. They _cling_.”

“That sounds horribly inconvenient,” Allura says, aghast, and Keith snorts in agreement. “What are the conditions?”

Pidge raises a hand to count off on her fingers. “There are two possible ways they’ll let go. First: if one or both are unconscious or otherwise incapacitated. The exact mechanism that triggers the reflex isn’t known, but it’s definitely some kind of near-instantaneous two-way communication and that requires both parties to be awake and capable of continuously giving that signal.”

Keith listens closely. He actually didn’t know about it in that much detail. It was never something he invested much thought in. He never really expected to deal with it some day.

Pidge raises another finger. “Second: if both parties’ bodies release the chemicals associated with close relationships and physical intimacy. Oxytocin, a hormone related to social bonds. As well as dopamine and serotonin, the neurotransmitters related to reward behaviors and feeling happy. This is most easily accomplished through touch, but really anything that gets them to ‘feel the love’ will work.”

Pidge drops her hand and shrugs. “And that’s it, really. You can try and pry them off each other, but depending on their grip you might end up breaking something in the process.”

“How fascinating!” Coran says, tugging on his mustache. “You primitive _homo sapiens_ continue to surprise me.”

“But…” Allura looks between Lance and Keith with some distress. And if she’s this upset just thinking about it, she should try _living_ with it like Keith does. “How can you _function?_ How can you be near your ‘soulmate’ if a mere touch is enough to inconvenience you in this way?”

Allura is really starting to endear herself to Keith. She can be a hardass at times, but right now he just feels understood and validated by everything she’s saying.

“It’s not that common,” Hunk points out. “So most people don’t have to deal with it. Maybe 5% find a soulmate in their lifetime?”

“And most importantly, the reflex isn’t always triggered,” Pidge says. “After all, it’s assumed the function is to encourage you to build a strong bond, not avoid the person. If both parties are already ‘feeling the love’ with the happy brain chemical cocktail then they won’t cling. So if their relationship is close and their emotions are stable, it’s not a problem.”

Allura looks back and forth between Lance and Keith and her expression is grim. This is when Keith starts to worry.

“I see,” she says. “It is very good that I know this. We cannot have paladins jeopardizing a mission because they have failed to maintain a close bond.”

Oh fuck. Keith recognizes this attitude. This is her ‘come hell or high water we _will_ work hard and defeat Zarkon’ attitude. He is so fucked.

“Lance. Keith,” she says. “I would like you to demonstrate that you can touch without clinging.”

Keith exchanges a very panicked look with Lance. They’re so screwed. They’ve never touched without clinging. Except maybe when Lance was injured? But now Keith knows that might have been _because_ Lance was injured. So they probably can’t do it now. What will Allura do if they can’t do it!?

“Um, okay…” Lance says, getting closer with a nervous look on his face. He probably recognizes, as Keith does, that they can’t just say ‘no’ and not try. That would be even worse than failing.

Keith gathers his courage and meets him halfway, holding out his hand.

He tries to ‘feel the love’ and focus on positive things about Lance. But he still feels conflicted about whatever the fuck Lance was doing earlier: insulting him one minute and then possibly _flirting_ with him the next? On top of that, they have a live audience for this horrible encounter and that just makes Keith uncomfortable. Not conducive to feeling friendly, happy things.

They hold their breath and then each other’s hands. Immediately Keith can feel his fingers tighten involuntarily and he knows that they failed. Shit.

“Sorry, Princess,” Lance says. He sounds genuinely regretful. And a bit nervous, for good reason. “No can do.”

“Unfortunate,” Allura says, and she is very clearly Disappointed with a capital ‘D’, but also not surprised. “Coran, I’d like you to take these two to the training deck and run them through some exercises.”

_Fuck._

“What!?” Lance squawks. “Shiro said there wouldn’t be extra training!” Shiro shrugs apologetically, but no one else bothers to acknowledge his complaint.

“Are you sure you don’t need me on hand as you launch the Castle into space, Princess?” Coran asks.

“Wait, what? The castle is a ship!?” Lance says. Again, he is ignored.

“I can handle it, Coran,” Allura says. “I think it’s more important that Lance and Keith work on building a close bond so that they can avoid… ‘clinging.’”

“As you say!” Coran responds, and beckons to Lance and Keith. “Come along, boys. To the training deck!”

They follow after reluctantly, still holding hands. Keith looks back over his shoulder woefully. The other paladins offer them sympathetic glances but make no move to object or intervene. Keith is so screwed.

“Dude! I feel like I woke up and everything’s changed!” Lance says as they enter the hall. “Pidge is a girl and the castle is a ship. How long have I been out?”

“Is that really what you’re choosing to focus on, right now?” Keith shakes his head. “You’ve only been out for a day. More importantly, we’re about to get our asses handed to us under the fuzzy guise of ‘building a close bond.’”

“Yeah. I dunno…” Lance shrugs. “I know I complain about training, but I figure it’s like eating your vegetables. Unpleasant but important. What if our progress in this session is the difference between living and dying some day, Keith?”

That is… a surprisingly mature perspective. Keith glances sideways and sees that Lance is frowning, watching his feet and looking far too glum for this being _Lance._ Keith doesn’t like it. He would have thought he’d prefer a more mature Lance, but not if Lance’s happiness and good cheer is the cost.

“Hey,” Keith says, nudging him in the leg with their clasped hands. “No one’s dying today. But you’d better keep up in the training deck or I might stab you. On purpose.”

Lance snickers. “Are you trying to cheer me up? By threatening me with your bayard?” He looks up at Keith and grins, his eyes squinting with mirth. “That’s awful. You’re awful.”

Keith can’t help but smile in return, a warmth bubbling up from his chest to his throat to his cheeks. “It worked, didn’t it?”

 _Something_ sure worked, because Keith can feel his clinging fingers relax in Lance’s grip. They both stop walking and look down at their hands.

“Ooh, Keith!” Lance has a shit-eating grin on his face. “You heard what Pidge said. We stopped clinging so you must be feeling the loo _ove_ right now.”

Keith snatches his hand away and frowns, crossing his arms and continuing to walk after Coran. They’d fallen behind.

“I’m not feeling anything but annoyed,” he protests. _And a little embarrassed._

“Suuure,” Lance says, jogging a few steps to catch up. “But now I’m wondering – are threats of violence your love language? I mean, as long as you don’t follow through and _actually_ stab me I guess I can live with that. But that could get confusing if you start trash talking the enemy. I might get jealous, you know?”

 _“Lance,”_ Keith says. “Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about having Lance *not* provoke Keith into making the 'bonding moment' comment, but it's just such a great line and it did offer an opportunity for Lance to get his flirt on. (Oh, Keith. So flustered and oblivious.)
> 
> And we finally get a semi-coherent explanation of clinging! I got to pretend I know anything about science. Prepare for me to make assumptions about the frequency and amount of 'happy brain chemical cocktail' feels. Did you learn anything? Not sure it tells you much more than you can already assume from what's happened. Discussions of what it actually means to be 'soulmates' will probably come later.
> 
> A heads up: I'll be travelling for the next week or so, meaning there will likely be a brief hiatus in writing/posting during that time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training together goes about as expected. Keith is an ass, but then Lance's lion gets stolen which offers an unexpected opportunity for reconciliation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, I'm back! A little later than expected but I had gotten out of the writing groove and was feeling stuck. Hopefully chapters will continue now with more regularity. Enjoy!

After changing into their armor, Keith and Lance are put through their paces by Coran in the training deck. It starts off disastrously and doesn’t get much better after that.

Coran is focusing on the combat exercises so first up they’re shielding each other from drones. They stand back to back but not touching and for thirty seconds or so it’s not too bad. Until they get too close and their feet touch, and then Keith’s balance is thrown off as his leg moves back of its own volition to tangle around Lance’s and cling.

They fall down. The drones hit them and they’re dropped through the floor to land in a pile. God dammit.

Keith’s whole left leg is locked up and twisted uncomfortably around Lance’s right leg. It’s lucky they didn’t sprain anything. He glares at the offending limb with a scowl.

“Wow, I didn’t even know our legs could do that,” Lance says, wide-eyed. “Can you imagine the sort of weird ways we could get tangled?”

 _Fuck._ And now Keith can’t do anything _but_ imagine it. Legs wrapped around thighs or waists or necks, pressed ass to groin or - _FUCK!_

“We need to get a handle on the clinging,” Keith says firmly. “Soon. _Now,_ even. _Yesterday.”_

“We really do,” Lance agrees quickly, nodding. They are unified in their shared horror of the embarrassing possibilities. “But, uh- for today, since we _are_ clinging, maybe we can… prevent the worst of it by holding hands?”

“That…” Keith says. “Is actually a really good idea.”

“Yeah?” Lance says, smiling wide and puffing out his chest. “I mean, _yeah._ Obviously.”

Keith rolls his eyes.

“You two okay down there?” Coran’s voice addresses them from the observation room.

“Be right out,” Lance tells him, and then they’re reaching across their tangled legs to “hug it out.” It’s a weird stretch on his hip but it works well enough. They’re soon free to keep going, standing back on the main floor and ready to try again.

“Which hand do you need?” Lance asks, and Keith shrugs.

“I’m ambidextrous,” he says.

“Really? Me too!” Lance grins.

Coran’s voice comes down from above, “Trying again in 3… 2…”

Lance yelps and grabs Keith’s left hand in his right. They both activate the shields on their other arms and stand back to back. Just in time, the drones attack.

It’s… better. Not _good._ But better. They last a little longer, at least, and don’t fall over. But Lance’s hand is a restraint on Keith’s movements and sometimes Keith gets jerked around unexpectedly which strains his shoulder. That's how he ends up getting shot and dropped, Lance pulled down alongside him with a yelp.

They go again, and twice more. They start trying to communicate when they need to dodge or pull, even if it’s usually too late or the shouts are unintelligible. They still don’t last longer than a few minutes. But it feels something like progress.

“A good start, paladins!” Coran says, turning off the drones after _many_ more attempts. Keith lost track somewhere along the way.

Lance beams at Keith and squeezes his hand. Keith smiles back and they’re both sweating and breathless but it feels good, it feels right. He can feel the mobility in their fingers that means they’re no longer clinging, but neither of them let go.

“Now that you’re warmed up, it’s time for the Gladiator!” Coran tells them. _Shit._ Their eyes widen in panic.

Without another word of warning, the Gladiator drops from the ceiling and they have to fight. _Fuck._ They pull out their bayards but it’s already too late, the Gladiator is on them and _fuck that hurts._

“You okay?” Lance asks from underneath him while Coran deactivates the Gladiator.

“Alive,” Keith confirms with a sigh. “You?”

“Nothing broken.” They sit up and Lance groans. “I think.”

“Up you go for another round!” Coran chirps happily, and then they’re at it again. And again. And again. Getting knocked down and getting back up again. Keith just in front trading blows with the Gladiator as Lance tries to support him from behind.

At one point, Lance’s shot lands on Keith’s lower back at close range. He flinches and shouts in pain. The Gladiator takes the opportunity to knock them both down and that’s the end of another round.

“Dammit, Lance!” Keith hisses, dropping his bayard to rub at his back. The suit of his armor is strong and protects him from most of the blast’s heat and force, but even on a low setting that’s definitely going to leave a nasty welt.

“I’m sorry!” Lance says. “But you got right in front of me as I was taking the shot!”

“Of course I was in front of you!” Keith groans and lays on his side on the floor. He’s fucking _tired._ “There’s nowhere else I can go when we’re fucking _clinging_ by the hand.”

“Keith, I -”

“You’re fine,” Keith grumbles. Arguing about it will just make this worse. “Sorry. I just… this is fucking _hard.”_

Lance sighs. “No kidding, man. What kind of training strategy is _trial and error?”_

“Right!?” Keith sighs. “We have no idea what the fuck we’re doing.”

“Yeah… Hey, maybe -”

“Enough rest, I think,” Coran’s voice cuts in. “Up and at ‘em, boys!”

They groan in sync.

 _“Coran,”_ Lance whines, “Can’t we -”

Their salvation comes in the form of Allura’s voice over the castle-wide comms system.

“Coran, we’ve received a distress beacon from a nearby moon. Please accompany Lance and Keith back to the bridge. We will be landing soon.”

Keith and Lance exchange matching expressions of relief. Whatever they’ll be facing on that moon, it has to be better than this, right?

“Well, you heard the Princess.” Coran says, coming down from the observation room. “No time to waste. Up, up!”

* * *

Soon everyone but Coran is dropping onto the moon’s surface in some sort of capsule. They meet with two aliens and a robot who introduce themselves as Rolo, Nyma, and Beezer. Naturally, Lance immediately starts making goo-goo eyes at the pretty girl while Pidge geeks out over the robot. Keith is honestly embarrassed for both of them.

At least the only help these guys need is with fixing their ship. Keith is glad for a break in fighting the Galra Empire.

While Hunk fetches the spare parts they need from the castle, everyone else settles around the fire. Keith is contemplating how convenient it is that this moon is perfect enough to have a comfortable amount of gravity, an atmosphere, a good temperature, and even air safe to breathe when Lance sidles up next to him.

“Sorry about that,” he says quietly, and Keith looks over to see a sheepish smile on Lance's face. “Been awhile since we’ve seen new people and no one on the ship likes my lines. Sometimes I think I might just die of repressed flirtations, you know?”

“No, I don’t know,” Keith says, frowning. “Is that why you do it? I thought you wanted pretty girls to validate your ego or something.”

Lance’s smile tightens, which makes Keith think back on his words and recognize their dickishness. Shit. Why did he even say that?

“Um, sorry, I -” Keith says. “That was -”

“No, I get it.” Lance is still smiling, but even Keith can recognize that it has a sharp edge to it. “I do it because I like people and it’s fun, but it’s also a nice boost for my self-confidence when a pretty face thinks I’m cute and funny. So, hey, I guess you’re right!”

“Lance -”

“Just wanted to make sure it doesn’t bother you, is all. It doesn’t, does it?” he asks.

Keith is reeling at the subject change. He still wants to apologize, but now there's a question he needs to answer, another thing he needs to reassure Lance of.

“No,” Keith says, confused. They may be soulmates or whatever, but they’re not a _thing._ “Why would it?”

“Right. Why would it.” Lance looks away. “Okay, then. I’m off to validate my ego.”

“Lance -!” Keith calls out, but he’s walking away from the fire to meet with Nyma by one of the shipping containers.

Shit. He really fucked that up. Lance was just trying to be considerate and Keith had to act like an asshole. And they were actually getting along during their forced training session. Look how long that lasted.

Keith sighs and tunes out most the discussion with Rolo. He needs to apologize. But Lance will probably just be more upset if Keith interrupts him with Nyma. It’ll have to wait.

* * *

Keith later regrets not interrupting. But then, at the time he didn’t know that Rolo and Nyma would turn out to be scumbags who steal from people trying to help them.

He’s able to chase their ship through an asteroid field and get the Blue Lion back. While the others tow the scumbags' busted up cargo ship back to where the castle is, Keith volunteers to fetch Lance. He uses the signal from Lance’s armor to track him down and lands in the Red Lion.

As Keith walks down the ramp, he can’t help but laugh at the picture Lance makes – lying on the ground and cuffed to a tree.

“How did that even happen?” he asks with a grin, getting closer. “Did she say, ‘please hold still as I chain you to this tree and I’ll let you kiss me?’”

“Shut up!” Lance squawks, face red. “It happened in like- a _second!_ One moment she has my hand and the next- _BAM!_ cuffs are on and this glowy rope appears. I couldn’t stop her!”

“Uh huh,” Keith says, still smiling as he kneels down to look at the cuffs. “You know how to get these things off?”

“Did you hear me!? It happened in a second! I didn’t get to see exactly how they work, no!” Lance huffs. “And I don’t have a lot of experience with space handcuffs so, _sorry,_ you’ll just have to figure it out.”

“You saying you have experience with _non-space_ handcuffs?” Keith asks idly as he examines them for a release button or something. Except Lance takes too long to respond so Keith looks and sees that he’s _blushing._ “Oh my god! You actually do!”

Lance manages to blush harder, squeaking, “Shut up!”

“Wh- how?” Keith forgets the handcuffs and sits on the ground to laugh. “Do I wanna know? Were you a delinquent or do you have a kinky side?”

“I maybe… had some. Cheap ones. I was curious!” Lance mumbles defensively.

“And did you use them?”

Lance doesn’t answer, pouting and still flushed red, and that’s answer enough.

“Holy -” Keith gasps, nearly choking on his laughter. “Holy _shit!_ This is amazing!”

“Keith,” Lance hisses, glaring. “It’s not _that_ funny.”

“S-sorry!” Keith says, still chuckling. “Not trying to, uh -” he wipes his watering eyes. “Say you _should_ be embarrassed or something. It’s just - Yeah, it’s a bit funny.”

“You’re not gonna tell anyone, are you?” Lance asks, looking worried now as well as embarrassed and angry.

“No, I won’t do that,” Keith assures him. “May still think about it and laugh, though.”

“Fine, laugh it up.” Lance huffs. “Just get me out of these cuffs, Keith!”

“Right,” Keith says, and he should really sober up and get back to the real issue here, but - “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay like that? I mean, if that’s what you’re into…”

“Keith.” Lance smiles, and it’s not a friendly smile. “If you don’t get me out of these cuffs, I’m gonna think _you’re_ the one with a kink.”

That shuts Keith up very quickly, his own face turning red. He focuses on figuring out how to remove the cuffs without having to touch Lance and cling. Maybe Keith should have thought of that before volunteering to rescue him.

“Maybe if I cut the chain?” Keith says, pulling out his bayard.

“Just try not to cut my hands off, please.”

“I think I’ll manage.”

“You _think?_ How -” Lance starts to say, but with a swipe of Keith’s sword the chain is gone. The cuffs are still on, but at least he’s free of the tree. “Awesome!”

Lance sits up and grabs his helmet while Keith gestures back to Red.

“C’mon. You can ask about the cuffs when we’re back with the others.”

“Thanks, Keith!” Lance says as they walk up the ramp, and he has an extra bounce in his step. “For this and for getting Blue back.”

“You’re welcome,” Keith says, and seats himself in the pilot chair. “Maybe you should avoid giving strangers joyrides in your lion, though.”

“...Yeah” Lance agrees, stepping up to grip the chair behind him. “Probably.”

Keith grabs the controls, but hesitates to take off.

“Um…” Now, now is definitely the time. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. About you flirting. It was rude and uncalled for.”

“It was a really dickish thing to say,” Lance agrees. “But... I forgive you. It’s a little bit true, anyway.” He sighs. “And it looks like flirting is a dangerous pastime out here in space, so maybe it’s time to kick the habit.”

He doesn’t sound too happy about that, and Keith remembers Lance’s earlier comment about why he does it. Lance likes people and it’s fun. But no one in the castle likes it when he flirts. Something in Keith twinges in sympathy. Lance should be able to have fun. Fuck knows they’ll all need something to relieve stress in between all the life-threatening bullshit.

Which must be why Keith opens his mouth to say, “Um. If you’re gonna go crazy or something not being able to flirt with anyone, you could… flirt with… me?”

“...What?”

 _Fuck._ Keith really needs to get a handle on the shit that comes out of his mouth. But... now he’s said it. Does he mean it?

“You can flirt with me,” Keith repeats.

He must mean it then.

“Keith…” Lance walks around the chair to look into Keith’s eyes, frowning. “That’s, uh… _nice_ of you? But you don’t like my flirting, dude. You freak out whenever I tease you.”

“I’ll try to be less… touchy about the teasing,” Keith says. “And I don’t know if I like it when you flirt with _me_ , because you haven’t done it.” Except maybe once, but Keith still isn’t sure about that – still isn’t sure how he feels about it, either.

Lance stares at him blankly. “You think I-” He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Okaaay... let’s give this a test run, then, huh?”

“Sure.” Keith waits as Lance settles into his “flirting face.” Eyebrow raised, lids lowered, smirk in place.

Lance leans in close to say, “Hey, cutie. There must be something wrong with my eyes, because I can’t take ‘em off of _you.”_

Keith can’t help but grimace and say, “That’s so _cheesy.”_

Lance scoffs. “Picky. So sorry I can’t come up with something classy and perfect right this moment.” Lance frowns. “And... I’m not sure how to take that response. You didn’t punch me in the face, which is good. But you also didn’t blush or smile. Kinda neutral?”

Keith shrugs. “Kind neutral. Which is fine, right?”

“Not that much fun, though.” Lance pouts.

“Probably better than Allura’s glares,” he says, and Lance sighs.

“Yeah, those are definitely the opposite of fun. It’s hard to resist when she’s so pretty though.”

“So?” Keith crosses his arms. “Verdict?”

“You really want me to flirt with you?” Lance asks him, smiling.

Keith looks away, and maybe his cheeks are a bit warm. “I just don’t want you to get so desperate you’d flirt with a Galra. Next time you might actually lose your lion. Or your life.”

“Aww, Keith, you do care!” Lance coos. And there’s that teasing that Keith hates. But maybe… Lance doesn’t do it to make fun of him? Or be mean? Maybe it’s… affectionate? Or something?

Keith swallows his instinctive reaction – which is to get angry – and just shrugs again. “I don’t hate you.”

“That might just be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Lance says, hand over his heart. And he actually looks pleased at Keith’s declaration of not-hate. “This feels like a hug moment. Can I hug you?”

“Uh…” Keith stalls. Deflects with, “We should really get back to the castle…”

Lance’s eyes narrow. “Uh huh. Sure.” He walks back around the chair so they can take off. “I’ll respect your lack of cuddliness. For now. But I’ll wear you down eventually. And the flirting game is _so_ on.”

Keith finds himself smiling all the way back to the castle. And when Lance requests that the cuffs be removed without damaging them, he sends a wink in Keith’s direction. Keith crosses his arms and looks away, but he’s blushing. What the fuck did he agree to? Hell, _volunteer for? And WHY?_

...He’s doomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm cackling because Keith is so oblivious, even of his own feelings. Of course volunteering to be flirted with is just a kind gesture. Just some friendly flirting between friends, obviously!
> 
> P.S. I will not apologize for the handcuffs. There's so much canon evidence Lance is into bondage, it's fantastic.


End file.
